


Time Of Our Lives

by Rakshi



Series: Time Series [4]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:01:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshi/pseuds/Rakshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Time Of Our Lives' is the forth segment of the Sean and Elijah 'Time' series. In the first story, 'Time', Sean and Elijah were reunited after a ten year separation and rediscovered their enduring love for one another. In the second story of the series, 'Time To Be Us', they deal with their inner fears and determined the course of their future together, in the third story 'Time After Time' they struggled to bring that future to fruition against some pretty overwhelming odds, and now in 'Time Of Our Lives' they discover that even after 20 years, there are still things that they can learn about each other, about themselves, and about their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah's been promoting his latest movie and he's exhausted, but the premiers are finally over and Sean is very happy that they're headed home. Yet, they may not find as much peace there as they'd hoped.

Now I've had the time of my life  
No I never felt like this before  
Yes I swear it's the truth  
And I owe it all to you

Elijah squinted out of the limo’s the side window. It was raining in New York, and he could see little through the rain-spattered glass. He sighed, settled back into the seat, and took out his iPhone.

He was meeting Sean at the theater, and he was running late. His day had already been jam-packed when he received a phone call telling him that two more interviews had been added to his schedule. Finally freed from the last one, he had raced to his limo barely making it on time. “Jesus!” he muttered in frustration staring at his calendar, determined to free up some time in his near future. “I fucking hate premieres!”

Sean wasn’t directing him in this movie. He’d wanted to, of course, but his schedule was full and he simply didn’t have the time. Elijah had gently urged the producers to wait, but fearful of losing their financing they eventually--and reluctantly--decided to move forward without Sean at the helm.

Elijah had missed him. He worked well with other directors, but there was no denying that none of them understood him the way Sean did. He seemed to know instinctively what brought out the best in Elijah’s performance, which in the case of this film would have been a distinct advantage.

From the very beginning, Elijah hadn’t felt particularly confident about the role. The movie was an ambitious ‘whodunit’. The young director had made a valiant attempt to bring forth a film that stood in the tradition of such greats as _Rear Window_ but missed. _Still,_ Elijah thought protectively, _‘it’s not all **that** bad.’_ He’d given 100% to the film as he always did and felt his performance had some fine moments. But he was not in the least surprised when the critics gave the movie a lukewarm reception.

He always found it difficult to respond to less than flattering reviews without coming off as defensive - but he’d gotten through it. All the interviews were behind him. Tonight’s premiere was the last one he was scheduled to attend, and then he could let this project go.

Thankfully, Sean had been able to break away from his schedule long enough to fly in from Los Angeles and attend this premiere. For a while he had doubted he could make it. His own career had skyrocketed after their Oscar-winning partnership in _Witness to History_. He was swamped with offers to direct feature films, and his schedule was even more hectic because he refused to abandon his position directing educational television. Being this successful and this busy meant that they were sometimes in completely different parts of the country and occasionally in completely different parts of the world. They both hated the separations and tried their best to minimize the time they spent apart, but they also understood that it was part of the price one paid.

The limo slowed and Elijah leaned forward to peer over the driver’s shoulder. Ahead he could see the spotlights surrounding the theater and the crowds that had gathered on the other side of the street. The press lines were hidden from his view behind a row of risers which he knew were plastered with the picture of himself and his leading lady that the producers had selected as the movie’s ‘money shot’. He’d be seeing that same image over and over again for months in movie trailers, on posters, and, in due time, on the cover of the DVD. He was already sick of it.

His limo was third in line, and he waited patiently while the other cast members got out of their cars and greeted the waiting crowd. Smile, wave, turn, stand still for photographers, walk forward a few paces; lather, rinse, and repeat. He’d been attending premieres since he was seven years old and had the routine down pat. He inhaled deeply to prepare himself. Normally, he would simply go on ‘autopilot’ and walk through the ritual without even thinking. But at the end of _this_ arrival ritual - inside the theater - Sean was waiting. Knowing this added a whole new level to Elijah’s anticipation. His stomach tingled with butterflies - not because of the lights, the press, the fans, or **any** of the Hollywood hoopla, but because he and Sean had been apart for several weeks and that time of deprivation was about to come to an end.

His limo moved forward, and someone opened his door. “Right this way, Mr. Wood.”

Elijah took a few steps forward, smiling, following the red carpeting that led to the risers and the waiting press. But those few steps were all he managed to take before he was swept off his feet by two strong arms and kissed with such passionate intensity that he gasped in surprise. Sean had been waiting on the sidelines, hidden from Elijah’s view by the throng that massed around the arrival area.

“My **god** , I’m glad to see you!” he whispered hoarsely against Elijah’s ear as Elijah laughed and clutched him joyfully.

“Making a spectacle of ourselves tonight are we?” he asked with a grin as Sean reluctantly released him.

Sean glanced around and scowled. The photographers had wasted no time when they saw Sean’s avid welcoming embrace and flashes were sparking all around them. He shrugged and took Elijah’s hand. “Ahhhh, fuck it. Let ‘em have their fun.”

“Thought you were gonna wait inside,” Elijah said as they moved toward the press area.

Sean looked at him sheepishly, and Elijah laughed and leaned into his shoulder. “Yeah,” he said knowingly, “I’ve missed you, too.”

They began talking with the assembled reporters, still holding each other’s hand tightly. And as he responded to questions, Elijah flashed on the fact that six years ago when their relationship had first gone public, Sean would have never openly held his hand this way with so much press around.

Now he laughed easily and released Elijah’s hand only to wrap an arm around his neck. “Yeah, guess I was a bit enthusiastic,” he said in response to a reporter’s joking question. “I haven’t seen him in almost a month!”

“Don’t let him kid you,” Elijah said to the reporter with a grin. “He greets me the exact same way when I come in from getting the mail.”

Sean’s arm tightened around Elijah’s neck in a fake headlock. “Hey,” he growled, nuzzling Elijah’s hair at the same time. “Don’t go making me look bad here. Have to kick your weenie ass!”

The reporters laughed, and one of them knelt in front of them to snap a picture of their antics from below. “Thanks a lot, you two,” he said, rising.

They waved in farewell, and Sean recaptured Elijah’s hand, leading him toward the theater entrance. “No TV here tonight?” he asked curiously. “Just print?”

“Yeah,” Elijah told him. “The TV media was at the first two premiers. I doubted they’d be at this one. Tonight it’s just a few low-level print guys. You know…” Elijah shrugged.

“Yeah,” Sean replied dryly. “Tonight’s not a high priority. But you’re done now, right?” he asked, stopping for a moment.

“Yeah,” Elijah said, turning to look into his eyes. “Tonight is it for this one. How about you? Jesus, Sean, we need a break - and some time together.”

“We’re gonna get it,” Sean told him as they entered the theater and were met by an usher who lit their way down the isle. “I promise you. We **are** going to get it.”

“Heard from Ally?” Elijah asked, as they took their seats.

Sean’s handsome face grew somber, and he shook his head. “No. Not a word.”

Sean’s eldest daughter was much on their minds lately. The romance that had blossomed between her and _Fellowship_ buddy Orlando Bloom had worried Sean from the very beginning. Orlando was a notorious lady’s man and to Sean’s mind quite a bit older than Alexandra. He feared that Orlando’s attraction to his daughter would prove to be simply another ‘fling’ and that she would end up with a broken heart. Added to this was the fear felt by both Sean and Elijah that a disastrous relationship between the two might damage their friendship with Orlando in ways that could prove irreversible.

Orlando had sworn to them and to Chris that his feelings for Alexandra were completely sincere and promised that they would wait until she completed college before any kind of marriage plans were discussed. The young couple tried their best to honor that agreement. But three years later when Alexandra received her bachelor’s degree in Space Physics from Sean’s alma mater, UCLA, they decided they had waited long enough and announced that they planned to wed. In spite of their many misgivings, Sean, Elijah, and Chris, supported the young couple’s decision and gave Alexandra a dream wedding at the Cerritos Performing Arts Center.

There were problems from the very beginning. Orlando was no longer in demand as an ‘A-list’ actor which was a source of tremendous frustration for both him and Alexandra. He had plenty of money thanks to his early successes in _Lord of the Rings_ , _Pirates of the Caribbean_ and other movies, but he was working only sporadically. Alexandra, who had inherited her father’s uncompromising drive and ambition, worked night and day to her achieve her master’s degree and then immediately began working on her PhD,, all of which left Orlando feeling more adrift than ever.

Hoping to solidify their unsteady relationship Alexandra became pregnant, and a year later the young couple presented Sean and Christine with their first grandchild, Sean Patrick Bloom, known to everyone as _‘Paddy’_.

Sean was delighted to be a grandfather, but in spite of his joy at Patrick's birth he worried ceaselessly about his daughter. Orlando was a loving and attentive father, but between the demands of school and motherhood Alexandra was terribly overburdened and becoming more worn out with every passing day.

Elijah glanced sideways at Sean as the movie started and reached to take his hand. Alexandra would be graduating soon, and Elijah fervently hoped that this would take some of the burden off her shoulders. He hated to see her so stressed, but worse yet for him was seeing the heart taken out of Sean as he agonized over his daughter’s struggles.

“How’s Paddy?” he whispered, leaning toward Sean so as not to disturb the patrons around them.

Sean’s grin lightened his heart. “ _Rat-rick_ is just fine,” Sean whispered back. “Keeps asking when Grandpa-Lijah is coming home.” _Rat-rick_ was how Sean’s grandson, now a year and a half old, pronounced ‘Patrick’. He was the light of both their lives and dominated the household anytime he visited. Alexandra complained that they spoiled him rotten and begged them to stop, but Sean and Elijah were completely under his spell, and when ‘Rat-rick’ was around he ruled the roost.

“Grandpa-Lijah misses him,” Elijah murmured to Sean, tightening his grip on Sean’s hand. He felt Sean’s fingers squeeze his in return, and then suddenly drift away. A moment later Elijah stifled a gasp as those same fingers slid slowly – teasingly - down his thigh. Surprised, he glanced sideways at Sean who appeared completely absorbed in the movie, a pretense belied by the enormous grin on his face, which was not at all appropriate to the happenings on the screen.

“You’re not fooling anyone, you know,” Elijah whispered, recapturing Sean’s hand. “Now behave yourself before you get us arrested.”

“How long **is** this damned film?” Sean muttered sotto voce.

“Another hour or so.”

“Jesus!” Sean muttered, squirming in his seat. “Just please tell me there’s no party afterward.”

“Only the one **we’re** going to have in our hotel room,” Elijah whispered.

“Believe me, **that** one I can handle!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took longer than either would have preferred before they finally made their way to the hotel room Sean had secured for them. In spite of the fact that it was the last official premiere for this film, several members of the press had stopped Elijah for brief interviews - which became even longer when the director showed up and joined the dialogue.

“Jesus!” Elijah spouted when they finally arrived at their room. “I thought we’d **never** get out of there.” He peeled off his suit coat and dropped it onto a chair.

“Can’t blame them for wanting to talk with you,” Sean said shrugging. He had Elijah’s suitcase in his hand and walked with it into the bedroom. “Besides,” he called over his shoulder, “you had to make nice on your director.”

Elijah grumbled something unintelligible and started unbuttoning his shirt as he followed closely behind Sean. “The only one I want to make nice on tonight is you!”

Sean made no response, but in one smooth motion he tossed the suitcase to the floor, spun on his heel, and took Elijah in his arms. “You’ll get no argument out of me,” he growled, embracing him with rough eagerness.

In the next instant he was kissing Elijah with intense passion, feeling his every nerve ending catch fire as the lips he adored opened eagerly under his. Desire poured through his body in a roaring rush, and he moaned. His arms tightened around Elijah as they kissed, almost lifting him off his feet, and Elijah’s arms wound tightly around his neck holding him in an iron grip.

They kissed again and again without speaking, hungrily devouring each other’s lips with a passion fueled by long weeks of separation.

“Oh my god,” Elijah gasped finally, feeling his body ache and melt with desire. “Sean – Se…” He had barely begun to speak Sean’s name when his lips were captured again in kiss after hungry, passionate kiss. It seemed to Elijah that Sean could not get enough, that even breathing meant less to him than the taste of Elijah’s kisses.

He released Elijah long enough to tear off his own jacket and throw it quickly to the floor, then he once again swept Elijah into his arms and all but dragged him to the huge bed. Clinging to each other, they fell onto it with Elijah pinned beneath Sean’s body.

“Lijah,” he moaned in a voice low and strangled by emotion. “Oh god, baby, you’ve been gone so long.”

Their bodies molded together as they kissed again and again in all consuming bliss, writhing against each other as their passion grew.

“Seanie,” Elijah gasped. “Sean… sweetie… wait.”

Sean felt drugged by the intensity of his desire, but he lifted his head at the sound of Elijah’s voice.

Elijah laughed softly, his hands moving to cradle Sean’s face. “What say we get rid of these clothes and then come back to this, hmm? Ya think?” He interspersed each word with soft kisses as his fingers gently stroked Sean’s unruly hair.

Sean smiled slowly and bent to give Elijah yet another quick kiss before standing. He began to undress as Elijah arose too and moved to the dresser, laying down his watch and wallet then quickly stripping off his clothing. When he turned back to the bed, Sean was already lying there on his side watching Elijah’s every move.

“Pretty spry for a grandpa aren’t you,” Elijah declared, grinning.

“Get over here,” Sean told him, more inflamed than ever by the sight of Elijah’s soft-hued, naked body, “before I come and get you.”

Elijah turned back to the dresser and grabbed a tube of lubricant that he’d spotted lying next to his wallet. “I see you came prepared,” he said with a grin, tossing it to Sean. “The heated kind?” he observed as he lay down next to his lover. “You **are** in a mood!”

Sean made no response. His arms caught Elijah close while his lips and tongue found that pale, beautiful throat, laving the smooth skin, feeling desire flame within himself as the taste of Elijah’s skin drove him wild with need. “Lijah,” he moaned. “Oh god, Lijah, my love.” His fingers moved to caress Elijah’s body, overwhelmed with the force of his longing to taste… to touch… to reclaim the man he loved more than his life.

Elijah groaned, his body thrashing restlessly as his desire grew. Each touch of Sean’s fingers spread fire through his body, leaving every nerve ending alive and aching with need.

They both moved as one to grasp the lubricant, but Sean quickly took it from Elijah's hand and smeared it liberally over each of them. Then, trying to move carefully, he pressed his erection against the opening to his lover’s body and slowly entered him.

It had been weeks since they last made love, and he was immediately overwhelmed by sensation as Elijah’s body closed tightly around him. Gasping and whimpering, he fought not to climax too soon as he carefully sheathed himself and began a slow, deep thrust.

“God!” Elijah gasped, his fingers clutching Sean’s broad shoulders. “Oh god!” Eyes closed, he was lost in an equal mixture of pain and unbelievable pleasure. He gasped again as Sean began to thrust harder. “God, baby… easy… _easy_. Seanie… god… go **slow**.”

Elijah’s words seeped into Sean’s consciousness through a blood-red haze of desire. He drew in a deep breath and forced himself to slow his movements. It had been a long time since they had made love, and he realized suddenly that he was causing Elijah pain.

Trembling with the effort he settled into a slow, steady rhythm, withdrawing then thrusting again, entering and re-entering Elijah’s body. He felt the slender frame beneath him begin to relax. “Jesus," he moaned, feeling his heart pounding madly in his chest. “Jesus, Lij.. Lijah…” He gasped Elijah’s name again and again, drowning in rapture, lost in the feeling of unity that always overwhelmed him when he was buried deep in his lover’s body.

Moving slightly faster, he heard Elijah cry out again and knew instantly that his cries denoted pleasure... not pain. Sean’s thrusts grew harder, more forceful, driven by an all-consuming yearning. Desperately he reached between them to grasp the throbbing hardness of his lover’s erection. Their bodies moved in a desperate rhythm, and for a few moments they thrashed together wildly, straining to find release.

Sean’s climax hit him with a sudden, intense force, and white flashes of light danced before his eyes. Nearly sobbing in ecstasy, he lost himself completely to the huge bursts of pleasure that wracked his body. “Oh god,” he moaned. “Oh god, Lij, Lij... I love you so much!”

He felt Elijah’s fingers clutching at his shoulders, clawing uncontrollably until finally he cried Sean’s name in a strangled voice and spilled himself over Sean’s fist.

For a long time the room was silent except for their soft, whimpering moans of completion and erratic breathing. They lay molded together without moving, hearts pounding… deeply reluctant to separate and surrender the oneness they now shared. Finally Sean drew in a long breath. “Sweet Jesus,” he whispered then inhaled in another long, shuddering sigh. “My god, Elijah.”

Elijah laughed softly, his fingers stroking Sean’s hair, but made no other response.

Sean lifted his head and stared for a moment into the blue of Elijah’s eyes, and then he bent and kissed him tenderly. “I hurt you. I’m sorry, baby.”

Elijah shook his head and pressed a kiss to Sean’s sweat-damp cheek. “Just for a second. Then you slowed down, and it was fine.” He shrugged dismissively. “Don’t make it into a thing.”

“Don’t we have a ‘safe word’?” Sean asked, leaning on his elbows to take his weight off his slender lover.

“Yeah,” Elijah replied, grinning. “We do. It’s ‘Stop it, you dickhead! That fucking **hurts**!’” He laughed again and scrubbed his knuckles on the top of Sean’s head. “I said don’t make it a thing. It had just been awhile that’s all.”

Sean bent and kissed him softly then eased his weight off Elijah’s body and stretched out at his side. “We need a ‘safe word’,” he muttered.

Elijah shook his head and began to climb out of bed. “What we need right now is a shower.” He moved toward the bathroom then glanced back at Sean. “And clean linen.”

Sean nestled into his pillow, sighing blissfully, reluctant to move. “I wasn’t done saying ‘hello’ yet,” he murmured.

“Get rid of that bedspread,” Elijah said over his shoulder as he moved toward the bathroom. “You can finish saying ‘hello’ in a few minutes.”

Muttering, Sean got up, removed the bedspread, and quickly straightened the rumpled sheets beneath. “You gonna unpack?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of the shower. He was eyeing Elijah’s suitcase.

“We’re leaving first thing aren’t we?” Elijah called, his voice muffled by the water’s spray.

“Yeah.”

The water sounds suddenly ceased. “Then no point to unpacking. I’ll just grab a change of clothes from my bag.”

Sean nodded. He set Elijah’s suitcase on the rack at the foot of the bed and opened it then moved to his own bag. He was rummaging through clothes, digging out a casual outfit to wear on the plane tomorrow when Elijah re-entered the room drying his hair with a long white towel. Water drops stood out on his moonlight-pale body, and when Sean turned and saw him he felt his mouth go dry.

“Jesus,” he whispered.

Noting his expression, Elijah grinned. “Go take your shower.”

Sean nodded and moved toward the bathroom. “I can’t wait to get you into the pool,” he said, reaching out as he passed to stroke Elijah’s thigh.

Elijah laughed out loud and settled onto the bed. “We’ll be home tomorrow and then you can indulge your favorite ‘wet Elijah’ fantasies all you want.”

“It’s not just the wetness,” Sean called, turning on the water. “It’s the coolness. Gets me so freaking hot!”

“You’re a symphony in contradiction, Astin,” Elijah responded laughingly. “But I’m totally up for some pool lovin’.” He lay on the bed for a while, lulled by the sound of Sean’s shower, then got up and wandered to his suitcase. He was pulling a pair of jeans out of his bag when Sean re-entered the room.

He moved toward Elijah, grinning. “They have a pool _here_ , you know.”

“And, I assume, they also have police here who’d be all too happy to arrest us for indecent exposure?”

“I suspect you’re right,” Sean muttered, kissing Elijah’s shoulder as he passed him. “Too damned bad if you ask me.”

“Mmm…” Elijah murmured in agreement, leaning into Sean briefly before pulling a t-shirt out of his bag. “This’ll do.” He sat the clothes on top of his bag then clambered back into bed. Sean joined him a moment later clad only in boxers and nestled close to Elijah, his damp head resting on his lover’s shoulder. “God, I missed you,” he murmured. His fingers trailed over Elijah’s chest, tracing slow circles around his pectorals then brushing softly across rose-colored nipples.

“Mmmmm…” Elijah moaned softly. “You’re pretty feisty tonight.”

Sean’s happy sigh seemed to come from the soles of his feet. “Ohhhh god. This is heaven.”

Elijah turned slightly toward him, cradling Sean’s broad shoulders his arms. “That it is.” He thought about turning the light off, and while he was still thinking, they both fell into a deep, contented sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Elijah awoke the next morning Sean wasn’t beside him, but he could hear the low murmur of his voice close by.

“Chris, I don’t know what to do. I don’t think we dare say much right now. We’d just be interfering.”

For a moment there was silence, then Sean continued: “Oh don’t worry about that! If this crap goes on much longer I’m going to stop worrying about it and wade in with both feet. I just don’t think that time has come yet. And, you know, this isn’t ALL Orlando’s fault.”

Elijah winced, knowing how hard it had to be for Sean to say that to his ex-wife, then he sat silently and listened to the one-sided conversation.

“I know, Chris. I know. But Ally has to be willing to bend too, and right now she’s not.” After a moment’s silence he sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. She’s her father’s daughter. Yep. We’re coming home today.” Silence. “Oh, he’s fine. Eager to get home. We both are. How’s Donovan?” Silence. “Great! OK, Chris. I’ll call you later this week. Let me know if you hear anything, OK?” Silence. “OK, Chris, I’ll tell him. Bye.”

Elijah sat up. “Problems?” he asked quietly.

Sean shook his head and stood, tossing his cell phone to the table. “Could be. She was just wondering if I’d heard from Ally since she hasn’t heard a word.” He smiled at Elijah. “She sends her love.”

“Donovan’s too?” Elijah queried with a grin.

Sean snorted derisively and began rummaging in his suitcase. “C’mon, babe, get up. We need to haul ass if we’re going to make our plane.”

Elijah moaned and fell back onto the bed. “Oh god, Sean, I’m not fucking ready!”

Sean glanced at him and smiled, then strode to Elijah’s suitcase and grabbed the clothes lying on top of it. “This is what you’re wearing… right?”

Elijah nodded, burrowing into his pillow. “Eventually.”

Sean laughed and leaned over him, nuzzling his neck. “Get the hell up,” he murmured. “I’m going shave.” He tossed the clothes on top of Elijah’s still-prone form and wandered around the corner to the bathroom. “Elijah! UP!”

“I don’t mind you saying that,” Elijah grumbled, slowly rising with the clothes in his hand. “I just hate the reason for it.”

Sean laughed as he grabbed his electric razor and called over his shoulder. “Just get up, babe.”

Still grumbling, Elijah slowly rose. For a moment he hesitated, tempted to suggest that Sean join him in a quick wake-up shower but then glanced at his watch and changed his mind. Sean was right. They’d already slept way too long. He sighed and tossed his clothes to the bed, then scrubbed his hands through his short hair, trying to shake the cobwebs from his brain. “Ohhh god!” he moaned, then pawed through his suitcase and donned the first pair of briefs he saw before walking to the bathroom door and leaning against it. “Hurry up, you!” He said teasingly to Sean. "I want to shave too.

Sean smiled at him before turning back to the mirror to continue saving. “C’mon in! Room for both of us here."

“Better not,” Elijah replied, grinning at his reflection in the mirror. “We always end up elbowing one another when we try to share the bathroom.”

He wandered back to the bedroom, and while he waited for Sean to emerge he gathered their belongings and haphazardly jammed them into suitcases with no folding whatsoever and very little regard for which item was piled on top of the other.

He was pulled from his task by the gentle slap of a towel on his leg and turned to see Sean standing, naked, in front of him.

“All yours.”

“What’s all mine?” Elijah asked with a grin. “The bathroom? Or this!” Unable to resist, he closed the distance between them and grabbed a quick kiss. Then, after caressing Sean’s round bottom, he headed for the bathroom.

"Time, baby. Time," Sean called after him as he grabbed his clothes and began to dress.

He had only managed to stick one leg into a pair of faded jeans before he spotted their baggage, and his eyes widened as he viewed Elijah’s hurried packing job. “What the hell happened _here_?” he muttered eyeing their overflowing suitcases. The sound of Elijah's electric razor was his only response, and after shaking his head ruefully, he began a careful repacking.

Standing in the bathroom, Elijah moved the razor automatically over his face, his thoughts drifting. He wished he knew what he could do to make a difference in the difficulties Alexandra and Orlando were experiencing. He’d talked to both of them privately, an effort which he felt sure had made no difference whatsoever. His heart ached for everyone involved particularly for Sean and Christine… and, he supposed, for Donovan too.

Christine had remarried a year after Sean and Elijah were reunited. Her husband, Donovan Rembrandt, was a well-to-do doctor with a flourishing practice in Brentwood, a lush Los Angeles community that catered to the rich and famous. He was a kind, if somewhat introverted gentleman and… for the most part… Sean and Elijah liked him well enough.

The marriage had, however, added a subtle layer of tension to the complex relationships shared by the two couples. Donovan was more than a little jealous of Sean and Christine’s friendship, and frankly baffled by her casual acceptance of Sean and Elijah’s partnership. It didn’t take long for them to get the idea. Donovan would prefer it if Sean kept his distance, a situation which annoyed Sean to no end, but which Elijah found highly amusing.

The doctor was an affectionate, if somewhat distant, stepfather to Sean’s daughters. From the very beginning he saw clearly that their own father threw a very long shadow, and he never tried to assume a paternal role. He was basically a good and decent man who tended to be a bit of a closet homophobe, and while he was content to be in Sean and Elijah’s company at family events or to stop by on holidays he made it subtly clear that he would prefer that their visits be short ones.

Sean could see that Christine was happy in her new life so he forced himself to smile pleasantly anytime the two couples were together, and reined in his expressions of annoyance until he and Elijah were alone.

Elijah now found himself wondering what Donovan thought of the situation with Alexandra and Orlando, and even more importantly, what advice he gave to Chris about how to handle it. _He’s probably as confused as I am,_ Elijah thought as he brushed his teeth and made a casual swipe through his hair with his fingers. _We’re both outsiders really._

By the time he emerged from the bathroom Sean had reorganized their baggage and stacked it neatly by the door. He pointed to Elijah’s clothing. “There’s your clothes, babe. Everything else is packed up.”

“You're a wonder,” Elijah told him, grinning.

Sean rolled his eyes. “There’s a cab on the way so hustle your ass.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah gets an offer that thrills him... but will it lead to trouble between him and Sean?

Their flight home was uneventful save for a brief text message that dinged onto Elijah’s phone as they were shedding their shoes for the airport security check. It was from Dom.

“ _Picking you up. See you in LA._ ”

“Humph,” Elijah huffed, apparently puzzled. “That’s odd. I thought he was in Scotland.”

“What’s up?” Sean asked, standing on one foot as he struggled to remove his sneaker. He peered intently at the message which Elijah held toward him then shook his head. "Uh oh. We’ll get an earful when we land, you can bet on it.”

Elijah sighed, pocketing his phone.

Dom was trying desperately to form a lasting relationship with Billy, without a lot of success. He had recently taken an apartment in Scotland, disregarding Sean and Elijah’s pleas that he not place himself so directly in Billy’s life. Billy, on the other hand, floated aimlessly between Ali and Dom, very much in love with his _Lord of the Rings_ partner, but reluctant to leave his children. Both he and Dom hated the affair and had tried again and again to call it off to no avail. And each time one or the other of them tried to walk away from their extremely painful situation, Sean and Elijah found themselves in the unenviable position of being sounding boards and counselors, an arrangement they feared would someday damage their bond with one or both of these dear old friends.

“If it’s ended again…” Elijah murmured sadly to Sean, his voice trailing off.

Neither of them spoke as they passed through security and donned their shoes, then Sean sighed sadly. “We tried to warn him,” he said, picking up his carry-on. “C’mon, Lij. Nothing we can do ‘til we get home. We’ll do what we can then.”

Elijah grabbed his messenger bag and shouldered it impatiently. “Jesus, they have _got_ to make up their minds one way or the other!”

Sean was silent for a moment, and then he took Elijah’s arm and began to guide him down the passageway to their gate. “It’s not that easy, baby. Believe me, I know. Billy loves Dom, of that much I’m sure. But Ali is a sweet person, and then, of course, there’s Jack and Dominique.”

Elijah shot a sideways glance at Sean, but made no response. That particular problem was years in their past. But at times when the situation with Dom and Billy was at its most painful, Elijah found himself wondering if Sean ever drew parallels between what their friends were going through and what he and Elijah had experienced. “Dom feels guilty about even _wanting_ Billy to end his relationship with Ali,” he finally murmured in a low voice.

Sean’s hand on his arm tightened. “You speaking from experience here?”

Elijah stopped and turned toward him but didn’t answer. Sean’s eyes were soft and filled with love. “Of course he feels guilty,” Sean said, his hand sliding up Elijah’s arm to rest on his shoulder. “He’s a good and decent man who wants to do no harm. It’s a horribly painful situation, and until they make the tough choices about how they want to live for the rest of their lives, it’s going to stay that way. We’ll do all we can to help, Elijah, but ultimately they have to be the ones to decide what they want.”

Elijah nodded silently as they turned to walk up the Jetway, but after settling into his seat he turned again to his lover. “Do you ever regret the choices _we_ made?”

“Every day,” Sean replied in a soft voice, resting his elbow on the armrest to lean toward his friend. “Every single day I regret that I allowed myself to be trapped by fear and guilt and wasted years when we could have been together.”

Elijah smiled into his eyes.

“I should have left long before I did,” Sean continued. “But I don’t say that to Billy or to Dom.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re not us,” Sean said, turning away to buckle his seatbelt. Once it was secured he leaned back in his seat and sucked in a deep breath. “God, I hate takeoffs!”

Elijah smiled and recaptured Sean’s hand. “Relax, and count to sixty,” he comforted. “You know the drill.”

“Right,” Sean muttered dryly. “Safest way to travel.”

Elijah giggled and relaxed into his seat. “You know it, babe.”

Sean grumbled something unintelligible, shaking his head in helpless denial, and Elijah made no other comment. He gripped Sean’s already-sweaty hand once the plane began to gather speed for its takeoff, and from the moment the wheels rose in the air he heard Sean softly counting: “One, one thousand. Two, one thousand. Three, one thousand…” on his way to sixty and stifled a smile.

Some time ago he had convinced Sean that if something bad were going to happen during an airplane flight it would happen during the first sixty seconds. True to character, Sean had researched this theory and found it to be essentially true. Now anytime they flew he always counted to sixty during takeoffs and was then able to feel somewhat more relaxed for the duration of the flight.

“Sixty, one thousand,” he concluded, and then drew in a deep breath.

“Safe again?” Elijah asked, grinning and releasing his hand.

“And the first time I _don’t_ count?” Sean countered, poking at Elijah’s ribs. “What happens _then_ , huh?”

“I’m sure your counting to sixty is what kept the plane in the air,” Elijah said, nodding sagely.

“Right. Thank goodness for me.” He turned toward Elijah. “Did you turn your phone off?”

Elijah rolled his eyes but pulled the phone from his pocket. “Not yet.” He looked once more at Dom’s text message then, shaking his head sadly, hit the ‘off’ button. “You know he wouldn’t be back this fast if they weren’t in trouble again.”

“Babe, could you give me the book I stowed in your messenger bag?” He thought for a moment while Elijah opened his bag then added, “I’m not sure what to tell them anymore. We’ve said it all. All we’re doing now is repeating ourselves.”

“Man!” Elijah exclaimed, handing Sean his paperback. “Between them and Ally and Orlando we need to hang out a shingle.”

Sean nodded and settled into his seat. “I’m just glad it’s not us,” he mumbled from behind his book.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dom was waiting for them in the baggage claim area, and before they even reached him Sean and Elijah could see his downcast eyes and haggard expression.

“Uh oh,” Sean muttered under his breath. “Looks bad.”

Elijah said nothing, but moved quickly to Dom and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Hey there, dude,” he said, attempting a cheerfulness he was far from feeling. “How’s it going?”

“Not so hot,” Dom said, turning to accept Sean’s welcoming hug.

“We didn’t expect you back so soon.” Sean told him.

Dom released him and sighed. “Well, fact is Bill asked me to come back to LA for awhile.”

“What?” Elijah exclaimed, clearly surprised. “Why?”

Dom chewed his lip, silently studying his shoes.

“Lij,” Sean interjected quietly, “maybe this should wait ‘til were home… or at least in the car.”

Elijah glanced quickly at Dom’s face and nodded. “You’re right. Sorry, Dom.”

Dom shrugged and turned to help Sean lift a suitcase from the baggage belt. Later as he drove them back to their Topanga Canyon home, he provided more details about what had transpired in Scotland.

“Bill wanted me to stay,” Dom asserted. “But he asked me to leave because he was going to finally tell Ali about us and ask for a divorce.”

“Wow,” Sean breathed, leaning over the back seat. “That’s big news, Dominus.”

“I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now,” Dom murmured, his voice agonized. “I begged him to let me stay and help him through it you know, but…” his voice trailed off.

“Billy’s right,” Elijah said firmly. “You can’t help him with this, Dommie. They have to work this one out on their own.”

“My god,” Dom blurted, pounding the steering wheel with his fist. “His daughter is named after me! How will I ever be able to face them after this?”

“You didn’t plan this, Dom,” Sean soothed. “You aren’t to blame.”

“Those kids love you,” Elijah added, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on Dom’s shoulder.

“I remember how Elizabeth reacted to the two of you,” Dom replied.

“Yes,” Elijah conceded. “It was rough for awhile, but she came around. And so will they… eventually.”

“Yeah,” Dom replied dryly. “Eventually.”

He dropped them off at home, and though they begged him to stay for dinner, he refused to do more than help them carry their luggage into the utility room.

“Call us!” Elijah shouted after him, and Dom waved and nodded in half-hearted assent. “Later,” he shouted as he climbed back into his car.

Meanwhile, Sean was greeting Gabrielle in the kitchen, and shooing away her offers to carry their luggage upstairs. “No, now, Gabby, we’ll get the bags. We could use some lunch though.”

Elijah wandered in carrying both their suitcases, and after he dropped Sean’s at his feet, gave Gabrielle a one-armed hug. “Hey, Gabby,” he murmured, kissing her cheek. “And Mr. Sean’s right. Lunch would be great.”

She began to bustle about the kitchen as they dragged their luggage up the stairs calling after them: “Lunch in ten minutes, so hurry yourselves.”

They shut their bedroom door behind them and tossed the suitcases into a corner. “I’m worried about Dom,” Elijah said dejectedly, sprawling out on their bed.

Sean emptied his pockets onto the dresser and sighed. “I am too, Lij, but there’s not much we can do at this point other than what we’re doing: giving him our support.”

“Maybe if I gave Bill a call…” Elijah mused, but Sean turned to him at once.

“Lij, don’t do it,” he cautioned. “Billy’s dealing with enough right now. If he’s asking Ali for a divorce they’ve both got to be going through hell. A reminder that Dom is also going through hell isn’t something he needs right now.” He sat down on the bed, then stretched out next to his lover and snuggled close to him. “You know?”

“I suppose,” Elijah agreed reluctantly. Then, thinking of something, he turned to Sean expectantly. “You going to call Ally? Your daughter, Ally, I mean,” he clarified. “My god, we’re inundated with Ally’s around here.”

Sean snorted out a laugh. “Don’t I know it. And, yeah, I expect I’ll call later on. Right now, though, all I want is lunch and a quiet afternoon-slash-evening with my long-lost lover.” He bent over Elijah and kissed him tenderly. “How ‘bout you?”

“Right now that sounds like a slice of heaven.” He returned Sean’s kiss, nestling comfortably against his body, then gazed around the bedroom they shared, marveling for the ten thousandth time at its loveliness and comfort. A soft breeze touched the silk curtains at their windows carrying the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle, and from their private patio he could hear the birds singing in the branches of the oak tree. He sighed in contentment. “Oh, god, Sean, I don’t want to move.” The words had no more than passed his lips when he heard Gabrielle calling them to lunch. He sighed again, this time in weariness.

Sean heaved himself to his feet, and then held out his hand to Elijah. “C’mon, love. Let’s go make Gabby happy and eat something. We’ll come back up here and snuggle after lunch. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Astin” Elijah said as Sean hauled him upright. “Lead on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sean made good on his promise that they’d spend the rest of that day in their room. They snuggled close together and talked softly for a long time, catching up on what each of them had experienced during their three-week separation. Finally Elijah–bone-weary–was soothed into sleep by the sound of Sean’s voice, and as he dozed Sean scanned his sleeping face, frowning anxiously. This latest movie, for all of the fact that it hadn’t been a large-scale production, had left Elijah completely drained. Sean had seldom seen him this weary, and as he studied his sleeping lover he vowed that he would strongly discourage his involvement in any new project until he was fully himself again.

 _Where would I be without him?_ he wondered, lightly drawing a fingertip around the curve of Elijah's eyebrow. _What would I do if he ever went away?_ He drew in a deep breath and forced his mind away from these disturbing thoughts. Their love for each other had never wavered, even in the years when they were apart. Thinking this way was foolish.

Shaking his head, he gently eased Elijah from his arms and rose. Elijah immediately sensed his absence. He began squirming and muttering anxiously in his sleep. Sean soothed him until he was quiet again and after tucking a comforter snugly around him he wandered downstairs to call his daughter. As he dialed her number he felt a disturbing sense of unease, and when there was no answer he was more than a little relieved. Easier to just leave a message.

“Hi, Ally!” he spoke to her voice mail. “It’s dad. I just got back from the airport with Elijah and wanted to see how you guys were doing. Give me a call when you can. Love to all of you.”

He hung up, stung by pangs of guilt. _I shouldn’t feel so good about not reaching her,_ he thought, angry with himself. _But, god! Elijah and I just got home. I don’t want us buried in drama right now._

He threw himself into his office chair and rocked it back and forth worrying a fingernail. Even as the thoughts had been forming in his mind he'd known he was rationalizing. In truth, he dreaded his conversation with his daughter because it was becoming increasingly clear to him that she, much more so than Orlando, was responsible for the problems in their marriage. He had begun to see that her obsessive drive to succeed, which disturbingly echoed the darker angels of his own nature, was a large part of their problem.

But worst of all to Sean was the growing fear that his daughter’s uncompromising need to achieve was causing her to neglect her young son. He knew that Alexandra wouldn’t consciously ignore Patrick’s needs; she loved him with a deep and abiding devotion. But Sean also knew from painful experience how easy it was to lose oneself in the pursuit of a goal to the point where you become insensitive to how your behavior is affecting those you love.

In the past, his overwhelming need to succeed had created emotionally distressing conflicts with Elijah, and he was grateful that his lover refused to allow him to linger in a destructive frame of mind. Elijah was lightning-quick to protest and protest strongly when Sean drifted into single-minded manias that left him blind to other considerations. Elijah simply wouldn't tolerate it, and Sean was glad. He had yanked Sean back from the brink of those dark humors more than once, and now Sean feared that he would have to do the same for his eldest child, a task he thoroughly dreaded.

He felt a sense of growing annoyance with Orlando for not handling this himself, then sighed and shook his head. Orlando was simply not able to confront Alexandra as forcefully as was necessary. He had grown increasingly insecure and hesitant as his own career floundered. No, Orlando simply couldn’t do it. This would have to come from her father. This would have to come from him.

“Oh, god,” Sean moaned unhappily.

“What’s wrong?” Elijah said from behind him.

Sean turned toward him and smiled. “You finally up?”

“Well, yeah. Obviously. What’s wrong, Sean?” He perched on the side of Sean’s desk, a worried frown on his face. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

Sean sighed and reached to take his hand. “Ally and Orlando. Or more to the point… Ally.”

“Did you call her?”

“I tried. Got voice mail.”

“Sean, you can only do so much. She’s a grown woman and Orlando’s a big boy. They have to work out their own issues just the way we’ve had to.”

“I worry about Paddy,” Sean said unhappily, absently sliding his thumb over Elijah’s knuckles. “He’s a baby, and it seems to me that she’s just not there for him right now.”

“Shouldn’t Orlando be the one to point this out?” Elijah asked gently.

“Yes,” Sean admitted. “But you know he won’t.”

"So you're taking it on?" Elijah questioned, frowning.

"I dunno," Sean shrugged. "Chris wants me to talk to him, and eventually I may have to..." He glanced up at Elijah and sighed wearily. "...but not tonight."

“C’mon, big guy,” Elijah urged, rising and tugging on Sean’s hand. “You couldn't solve it tonight anyway and it’s my first night home. Let’s go to bed.”

“Bed?” Sean questioned, a mischievous grin suddenly lighting his face. “No dip in the pool first?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Elijah burst out laughing.

“Fine,” he chuckled. “Pool it is. You may indulge your ‘Wet Elijah’ fantasies to your heart’s content.”

Sean glanced out his office window as he rose from the chair. "Is Gabby asleep?"

"You know the signal for naked swimming," Elijah said, moving toward the door, shedding and dropping clothes as he went. "Just drape a towel over the chair near her window." He giggled and dashed through the French doors. And while Sean was still bending to pick up the clothing Elijah had left in his wake, he heard Elijah dive into the pool with a huge splash.

"Swimming my ass," he said with a grin as he tossed Elijah's discarded clothes into a nearby chair. "I'll get the towel," he yelled toward the sound of splashing.

Gabby's small house was dark. Sean draped a towel conspicuously over the chair then raced toward the pool quickly while shedding his own clothing. "You wet yet?" he yelled.

Elijah's high pitched giggle was his only response, and after taking a quick look around the pool to see where he was, Sean dove in and quickly swam to his side, surfacing right next to him, shaking his head, flicking water droplets everywhere.

Elijah laughed again and backstroked his way toward the other side of the pool. "I'm wet, Sean," he teased. "Wet and _coooool_."

"Brat!" Sean said, swimming after him.

"Who me?" Elijah asked innocently. His back nudged the opposite pool wall and he stood, grinning as Sean slowly approached him. "All this nice, cool Elijah skin just waiting for some..."

He didn't get any further because Sean lunged and in a split second he had Elijah pressed against the pool and was kissing him with an almost desperate hunger. He felt Elijah's arms wind around his neck and whimpering, he pressed his mouth to Elijah's throat, tasting chlorine as he kissed and licked the slippery alabaster skin, desire roaring through his veins in a riptide. He could hear Elijah moaning his name, and with a pounding heart, he dropped his head to lick Elijah's chest and nipples, his cock rock-hard and throbbing against his lover's body. Nothing in his life had ever had the power to excite him the way this did. It was almost embarrassing. Even knowing it was sure to happen didn't lessen the intensity of Sean's desire when he felt Elijah's cool, wet, naked body against his own.

He grasped his lover's hips and lifted, setting Elijah on the pool's edge with his rigid cock at Sean's face level. Slowly Sean lifted his eyes to Elijah's and smiled, then without saying a word he captured Elijah's cock in his mouth and enveloped him. He could feel Elijah's thighs quivering against his hand and hear him gasp and moan Sean's name, but all this seemed to come from a great distance, drowned out by the roaring in his ears and the intensity of his need.

His lips and tongue devoured his lover's full throbbing erection sucking him deep, then eagerly he laved the taut surface with his tongue as Elijah withdrew. Again and again his head dipped between Elijah's legs until the sounds pouring from Elijah's throat became desperate and demanding, and Sean could feel the slender body above him writhing in anguished desire.

"God!" Elijah half-screamed. His fingers clenched in Sean's hair. "Ohhh god, _yes_..." he moaned, eyes closing as Sean's large fist closed around his cock, adding a rhythmic stroking to the exquisite torture of Sean's mouth. His legs had closed, involuntarily, around Sean's body and now Sean heard him gasp and felt the slender body stiffen. He could almost _taste_ how close his lover was to coming, then he felt Elijah spasm hard and heard him cry out. In the next instant he tasted the musky, half-tart flavor of Elijah's come and his eyes closed, totally lost in sensuous bliss, swallowing every drop.

His hands caressed Elijah's hips. _Oh god, I love tasting him!_ Sean thought in rapture, still amazed after all these years at how powerfully this act bound him to the one he loved.

"Oh my god!" Elijah moaned. He was still trembling as he slowly lowered himself back into the pool, supported by Sean, leaning against him as the cool waters washed over him, sudden and shocking after the heat of their lovemaking. "Jesus," he whispered, his face pressed to Sean's wet shoulder. "What the hell got into _you_?" He was half-laughing as his head lifted and his eyes met Sean's. "That was fucking _incredible_!"

The broad shoulders underneath his hands shrugged. "Wet Elijah," he explained with a grin.

"What about Wet Sean?" Elijah asked, grinning back, his fingers closing around the hard male heat of Sean's erection.

Sean gasped at his touch, and then exhaled slowly. "Let's go to bed," he whispered, capturing Elijah in his arms. "Wet Sean wants something that requires more lube than this pool can provide."

Wordlessly, Elijah turned and climbed out of the pool, walking slowly ahead of his lover as they moved toward the house.

"You forgot your towel," Sean murmured from behind him.

"Thought you might enjoy the view," Elijah replied suggestively over his shoulder.

"Just get in there," Sean told him, and laughing happily, Elijah quickly complied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days were relatively peaceful. Alexandra returned Sean's phone call, and to his immense relief she told him that the difficulties between her and Orlando seemed to be easing, and for the moment Sean was happy to leave it at that.

They had not heard a word from Dom or Billy, and at breakfast that morning Elijah commented on this silence.

"We should call one of them, Sean. I don't think that not hearing from them is a good thing."

"We could," Sean conceded, chewing thoughtfully on his toast. "But all we might succeed in doing is stirring the pot. Maybe they've found a peaceful solution."

"There _is_ no peaceful solution to their issues!" Elijah snapped quickly.

Startled, Sean stared at him wide-eyed, then shrugged. "If you want to call then call." He stood up, brushing crumbs from his robe, and turned to Gabriel. "Thanks, Gabby." Then his eyes returned to Elijah who was staring down at his breakfast. "I have to shower, I have meetings this morning." He bent and pressed a kiss to Elijah's hair.

"Seanie?" Elijah said quietly, still looking at his plate.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry," Elijah said softly, lifting his head to smile up at his partner. "I'm just worried."

Sean bent and kissed him tenderly. "I know. We can call tonight if you want to do it together."

"No. I'll buzz Dom this morning."

"Relax and enjoy your day," Sean advised him, turning to leave.

"Do my best," Elijah promised to Sean's retreating back. "I have to call Martin today, too. There's some kind of offer he wants to tell me about."

Sean stopped and looked back at him. "Really?" he asked mildly. "I thought we agreed you needed rest."

Elijah smiled at him. "Rest which I probably won't get if Martin is calling me every five minutes."

Sean nodded agreement and wandered toward the stairs. "You're right. You'd better call."

After Sean retreated upstairs, Elijah silently studied the far wall of their dining room with uncharacteristic melancholy. He could hear Gabby moving around the kitchen, cleaning up the breakfast disorder, and from a distance he could detect the running water of Sean's shower, but his mind was focused almost entirely on his behavior this morning.

He _never_ snapped at Sean. What on Earth had possessed him? Sighing, he rose and wandered to the living room. He supposed that his preoccupation with Dom and Billy's situation had made him a bit moody. He also supposed that Sean was right. His last project had left him feeling drained both emotionally and physically, probably due to the fact that he'd known almost from day one that it was not going to succeed. He fell onto the couch and reached for the phone. Best to get these calls out of the way, and then he'd find some way to make it up to Sean.

He was disappointed when he got Dom's voice mail but he left a message and then dialed his agent who answered on the first ring.

"Martin, what's up?" he asked impatiently. He'd had one ear cocked to the sound of Sean's shower, and it had just ceased. He was eager to end this call and go upstairs before Sean dressed and left.

"Elijah, I have an amazing offer for you."

"Do tell."

"I'm serious! It's something you've always wanted, and it's perfect for you."

"What is it, Martin?" he asked, dubiously. His agent had a tendency to think every deal offered to him was 'perfect for him' and so _his_ tendency was to remain skeptical until all the facts were known.

"It's a stage play," Martian told him excitedly. "It's being directed by a nea young director named Deacon Christopher who specifically asked for you."

"Yeah?" Elijah mulled for a moment, intrigued. He had always wanted to try theater work. Maybe this was his opportunity. "Is there a script?"

"There is, and I'll send it over to you today."

"OK. Let's leave it at that 'til I've had a chance to look it over."

"Sure thing, Elijah."

"OK. I gotta run! Bye." He hung up and immediately dashed upstairs in search of Sean. He found him in their room holding two ties in his hands and looking from one to the other.

"Which one goes?" he asked, holding them both out to Elijah. "I'm wearing the gray suit. The one that you hate," he added with a grin.

Elijah took both ties and set them on the dresser, then wrapped his arms around Sean's neck. "I'm so sorry I bit your head off, Seanie." He pressed his face to the crisp, clean front of Sean's shirt, feeling his lover's arms wrap around him, strong and tight.

"You're worried about our friends," Sean murmured against his ear. "And... you're tired. There's no need to apologize."

"Well, maybe not," Elijah told him. "But I do nonetheless."

"Accepted," Sean said, and kissed him tenderly. "And now, lover mine, I have to dash. I should be back by dinnertime. Oh!" he added, as if he had just remembered. "What did Martin want? Did you get a chance to call him? And Dom?"

"Dom wasn't in," Elijah replied, reluctantly releasing him. "I left him a message that was sufficiently abusive to warrant a return call so I'll probably hear from him later. Martin? Hey! It's kind of neat! I'm being offered a stage play!"

Sean picked up one of the discarded ties and began to fasten it about his neck, his eyes still fixed on Elijah's face. "Really!" he said. "And?"

"And I told him to send the script over. Will you look at it with me?" Elijah added with a coy smile.

Sean quirked an eyebrow. "You're playing me."

"I absolutely am."

"You're hoping that I'll look at the script with you and get all involved and you'll cleverly sidestep my concerns about how tired you are."

"Exactly," Elijah said, firmly.

Sean laughed and pulled Elijah into his arms again. "OK, OK," he muttered. "I'll give you points for honesty and let you get away with it this time. But I'm _still_ not backing off on you getting some rest before you start some big new project."

"Understood," Elijah said, grinning at him. "Now scram or you're going to be late."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Martin was as good as his word, and before the morning ended Elijah was holding a script in his hands and gazing down at a title page which read: _Autumn's Pride_. Since Sean was likely to be out for quite a while he turned off his cell phone and settled into an easy chair to read. It didn't take long for him to realize that Martin had been right; this role was perfect for him.

The character, Blair Edwards, was a gay man in his mid-thirties who had lived his entire life as a rich, spoiled dilettante. Blair was indifferent to the feelings of others and completely uncaring about the harm he did through his immature and irresponsible behavior. He ripped his way through relationships with family, friends, and lovers, spending them as carelessly as he spent his seemingly endless wealth. But in the autumn of the year, after leaving a party to celebrated his thirty-fifth birthday, Blair was involved a terrible car accident. He had been drinking, and the accident was totally his fault. Thankfully no one else was hurt, but Blair was paralyzed from the waist down and condemned to live the rest of his life as a paraplegic.

At first Blair wallowed in self-pity, making everyone around him miserable, seeing no future for himself and projecting his own self-loathing even onto those who tried their best to love and support him. But eventually he began to see how his own arrogance and pride had led him to this moment. He found friendship with a young physical therapist who taught him ways to cope with his disability, and eventually their relationship blossomed into love.

It was a story of a man who faced the most terrible hardship imaginable and transcended it to find levels of wisdom, maturity, and love he had never imagined he could experience. This was a true 'coming-of-age' story, and Elijah was wholly enthralled. He had seldom ever been this excited about a prospective role. He could actually _feel_ his heart pounding as the story drew to a close, and when Sean walked in that evening, Elijah pounced on him, completely on fire with enthusiasm about the part.

"Jesus, Sean!" he blurted, thrusting the script into his partner's face. "You have got to read this script! It's fucking amazing!"

"You're considering this?" Sean asked, hugging him with one arm as he set his briefcase down. "Elijah, I thought..."

"I know, I know. I need to rest. But Seanie, this is the part of a lifetime! And it's _theater_!! You know I've always wanted to do theater."

"I know, Elijah, but..."

"Why are you saying 'but' before you've even read the script? Read it at least... OK?"

Sean nodded silently and took the script from Elijah's hand. "Of course I'll read it," he replied. "Elijah, I'm just..."

"I know, I know," Elijah interrupted. "I know you're just concerned. But Sean, once you read this script you'll be convinced, too. So read it. Read it now. OK?"

Refusing to even wait for Sean to sit down to dinner, Elijah shoved him into a chair and made him read while he carried Sean's dinner to him on a tray. Then, after refusing to take so much as a bite for himself, he hovered over Sean's shoulder, pointing out parts of the script he particularly liked and nervously pressed Sean for his opinion every ten seconds.

Finally Sean lay the script to one side. Elijah was perched directly in front of him on the floor, and Sean leaned forward to take his both Elijah's hands in his. "It's a wonderful script. You're right about that much," he said quietly. "But, Elijah..."

"Sean, how can you say 'but' after reading that script?" Elijah interrupted irritably. "That role is perfect for me!"

Sean dropped his hands and leaned back. "If you'd please let me finish my sentence," he said in a low voice.

Elijah nodded. "Sorry."

After a moment's silence, Sean continued. "This would mean New York, I take it."

Elijah nodded. "Yes. It's off-Broadway, but if it's good enough..." He shrugged. "You never know."

"So you'd be away from home again... probably for a long time. Theater is a huge commitment, Elijah, and an enormous time sink. It's not just six weeks filming a movie and that's it. This is weeks of rehearsal followed by the potential for months and possibly _years_ of almost daily performances."

"So you couldn't come to New York?" Elijah asked quietly.

Sean sighed, staring down at his hands. "If you were there for an extended period, of course I'd come to New York. But that's not my only objection, and you know it."

"I'm fine!" Elijah insisted. "You worry too much."

"You're _not_ fine," Sean asserted quickly. "You're exhausted. All the signs are there, Elijah. I've known you for twenty years... you don't think I know it when I see it? You're irritable. You're not sleeping well. You're talking and thrashing in your sleep which is _always_ a sure sign that you're worn out."

"Sean, honestly," Elijah said quietly. "I'm fine."

"You promised me you'd take a break," Sean replied. "You promised me, Elijah."

Elijah drew in a long, slow breath then spoke: "I'm doing this, Sean."

"Fine," Sean said mildly. "You're a grown man, and you make your own decisions. But why bother asking my opinion when you've already made your mind up?"

"I was asking for your support."

"And if I didn't know how strung out you are, you'd have it."

Elijah shot quickly to his feet, feeling anger flare uncontrollably within him. "Strung out?" he shrilled. "You make it sound like I'm on the edge of a fucking breakdown!" He glared down at Sean. "I'm doing this! So you'd better just get used to it."

"Elijah," Sean whispered. But his partner spun on his heel and stalked away, climbing the stairs to their room without so much as a backward glance.


	3. Time Of Our Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their lives seem to descend into chaos as outside influences and their own fears tear at the very fabric of their relationship. _Can_ they make this work?

Sean sat alone in the living room for a long time, stunned and utterly miserable. His hazel eyes were glued to the stairs that Elijah had stomped up a few minutes before. His hands were clenched into hard fists to control their trembling. He could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he and Elijah had actually quarreled, and even then neither of them had ever walked away without resolving their differences. This was an unprecedented event in their lives, and Sean was at a loss about how to handle it.

Finally he rose and walked slowly, hesitantly to their bedroom. Elijah was sitting on the bed staring down at the floor. Sean had barely entered the room before Elijah lifted his face and stared at him, his eyes wide and anguished. "Sean—" he stammered his voice tentative and trembling. "Seanie... I—I'm—"

Before he could finish, Sean quickly strode across the room and sat next to him, gathering him close, kissing his damp eyes, his cheeks, his lips. "Shhh, Lijah, Lijah. It's OK now, baby," he soothed, stroking Elijah's hair. "We'll figure it out. You have to do what you think is best. I'm here for you, Elijah. I promise you. I'll always be here for you."

They talked for a long, long time. Sean grudgingly conceded that Elijah was right; the script was riveting, and he would be magnificent in the part. Eventually—and very, very reluctantly—he also agreed to support Elijah's desire to accept the lead. They discussed a tentative plan to lease a New York apartment where they could both live while Elijah worked on the play, with Sean returning to their Topanga Canyon home when work required his presence in Los Angeles. They both agreed that this wasn't what they wanted. But they were also determined that they would not be separated any more than was absolutely necessary.

Finally, emotionally exhausted, they stripped to their underwear and lay on the bed, holding each other close. "It'll be alright," Sean murmured, his fingers gently caressing Elijah's brow, soothing away lines of stress and pain. "Relax, baby," Sean murmured again and again. “It's all OK now."

Elijah nestled against his lover's sturdy body, lulled by the sound of his voice, feeling the tension of the day beginning to drain away.

"By the way," Sean said, leaning back a bit to look at him. "Did you ever hear from Dom?"

"Dom!" Elijah exclaimed, abruptly sitting bolt upright. "Oh, **fuck** , Sean! Dom!"

"What??" Sean asked, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

Elijah turned quickly to the bedside table and snatched up his cell phone. "I turned this fucker off when I started reading that play and I forgot to turn it back on!" He quickly pressed the 'on' button and seconds later heard the phone signal that he had voice mail. Silently he listened to the message, then hung up sighing and laid the phone back on the table.

"Well?" Sean asked, leaning toward him. "Was it Dom?"

"Yeah," Elijah said dryly turning to look at Sean. "It was Dom." He sighed and leaned against his lover, his head resting once again on Sean's shoulder. "Billy left Ali. He's moving to LA to be with Dom."

"He's leaving his kids?" Sean asked, aghast.

"Evidently."

"Jesus, Elijah, you _know_ that'll never work. Billy adores those kids. He'll die without them."

Elijah made no response for a long, long time. When he finally spoke his voice was thin and unbelievably weary: "Can we just go to sleep, Seanie? I'd really like this day to end."

Sean nodded. "So would I, baby. So would I."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following day, Elijah informed his agent that he was happy, if not eager, to accept the part of Blair Edwards in _Autumn’s Pride_. Martin quickly set up several meetings between Elijah and the play’s producers and confirmed the date with him early in the following week. “We have to fly out Friday," he told Elijah. "I've already booked our flight. The director will probably sit in on the meeting. He’s beside himself that you’re actually considering the part.”

“That’s fine,” Elijah told him.

“This is just the first meeting, Elijah, so don’t go sounding over eager. I’m still dickering with them on salary and benefits. Keep them dangling a bit. You’re a big star, and your name will be worth a lot to them. I want to see how far they’ll go before we commit to anything.”

Elijah couldn’t help but smile because, of course, the more money _he_ made, the greater Martin’s percentage, but he also knew that Martin always had his best interests at heart. “No worries, Martin. I’ll play it totally cool.” They agreed to reconnect in New York before the meeting to plan strategy and said good-bye. Elijah stood for a moment after Martin hung up, holding the silent phone in his hand. “Play it cool,” he murmured unhappily, and sighed.

Cool would perfectly describe his relationship with Sean since the night of their big blowup. Not cold in any way, but maybe a little too polite. A little too careful. They had only talked about the play once since then, and when they did Elijah knew unerringly that Sean was subtly withdrawing from him, or at least being less than honest about his feelings.

 _I guess I can’t blame him,_ Elijah thought. He had no idea what had caused him to explode the way he had that night, but deep down he sensed that Sean was more than a little right to suggest that he was running on a ragged edge. The past few years had been hectic, with almost no time between major projects. And between their concern over Ally and Orlando plus Dom and Billy, they had felt a fair amount of stress in their personal lives as well.

But even knowing this didn't change his mind. He was determined to do _Autumn’s Pride_. He had always longed to test his acting talents on the stage, and even Sean admitted that the role was perfect for him. He simply had to trust that they’d be able to work through the difficulties together.

For his part, Sean was painfully aware that he had withdrawn from his lover. He knew he was the more insecure one in their relationship, and he had been deeply shaken by their quarrel. He struggled daily with the fears it had awakened in him. The years that he and Elijah spent apart had been a time of profound sadness for him. The very thought that he might lose this man whom he loved with all his soul and have to relive those bleak and lonely years was terrifying.

He longed to confront Elijah about doing this play and demand that he keep his promise not to take on any new projects until he had taken some time off to rest, but Sean was afraid of expanding the growing rift between them, and his fear kept him silent. His inner turmoil was expanded by an ever-escalating sense of guilt. He knew he was allowing his lack of confidence to strike him mute just when Elijah most needed him to be strong and forceful.

This was an old pattern for Sean: fear, withdrawal, guilt. Deep down he knew that for Elijah’s own good he’d eventually have to speak his mind, but he dreaded the confrontation that was guaranteed to follow any attempt on his part to intervene. For now he rationalized that a ‘wait and see’ attitude was best and vowed to himself that he would keep a close eye on what developed. And so he forced a smile as Elijah entered the kitchen where Sean sat eating breakfast.

“Hey there,” Sean greeted him. “You hungry?” He rose from his chair to wrap Elijah in a one-armed hug.

Elijah returned his embrace and gave him a wan smile. “No thanks, Seanie. Not really hungry.”

“You’re not eating very well lately,” Sean said quietly, reseating himself at the table.

“I’m fine. I’ll eat later,” Elijah replied, leaning back against the sink. “Just talked to Martin and I guess the meeting in New York is set, and I'm flying out Friday.” He watched Sean carefully. “You’re welcome to come along if you like; be easy to get another ticket.”

Sean’s eyes never left his plate. “Thanks, but I don’t think I can. I have meetings myself at the station.” He turned to look at his lover. Elijah was leaning back on the sink with his legs casually crossed in front of him. He was pale, but still exquisitely beautiful in black jeans and a snow-white T-shirt that set off his dark hair and soft beard to perfection. His face was thoughtful. His blue eyes searched Sean's as if seeking an answer that Sean instinctively knew he did not have. Just looking at him dried Sean's tongue and tightened his chest with both love and an aching sense of loss. Suddenly he wanted to cry. _I'm going to lose him,_ he thought in desperate sadness.

He wrenched his eyes away and steeled himself with an effort. “You’ll do fine without me," he stated softly, rising from the table. "Mother hen Martin will take good care of you I’m sure.” Then, unable to say anything more for fear of revealing the tumultuous emotions roiling in his chest, he silently walked from room.

Elijah sighed as he watched Sean's retreating back, sure that his silence signaled a deepening of the distance between them and stricken with sudden fear that their relationship would suffer irreparable damage because he was doing this play.

 _Maybe I should reconsider,_ he thought, then immediately rejected the idea. He knew instinctively that expanding his career repertoire to include stage work would be a growth-promoting experience, and he knew the role in question was a good one for him. Besides, he had already made a commitment to meet with them and felt honor bound to follow through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sean finished at the station ahead of schedule. Ordinarily under these circumstances he would have been eager to rush home to Elijah, but today the thought of going home filled him with a kind of dread. He knew Elijah would be getting ready for his trip and Sean was afraid that watching those preparations would goad him into saying something he would end up regretting. Uncertain what to do, he drove aimlessly for a few minutes, then gathering what little resolve he had left, he headed for his daughter’s house.

Alexandra was in school, but Orlando greeted him at the door. “Hey, man!” he said cordially. “C’mon in! Patrick!” he called over his shoulder. “Grandpa’s here!”

Sean spent a happy few minutes playing with his lively grandson. But eventually Patrick went back to his TV show and Sean turned to Orlando. “How’s it been going?” he asked.

Orlando shrugged, his smile fading as he turned to his friend and father-in-law. “It’s OK, Sean,” he replied slowly, and then he shrugged again. “You know Ally.”

“Yeah,” Sean said dryly. “I know her all right.”

“She’s got the bit in her teeth about getting her PhD and she’s pushing herself way too hard. Paddy and I hardly see her. When she’s not in school, she’s barricaded in her office studying.”

“Orly, I’m worried about her health. Plus the fact that she’s not spending _any_ quality time with Patrick.”

“Sean, do you think I’m _unaware_ of these things?”

“Well if you are, you don’t appear to be doing much about it,” Sean said mildly. “I mean, Jesus, Orlando, you _are_ her husband.”

Orlando’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You might want to try telling _her_ that, Sean, since she doesn’t appear to hear it when I say it.”

Sean could see his friend was getting upset, but at this point in time he found he didn’t much care. His nerves were already frayed from the tension between himself and Elijah, and before he could think or stop himself his temper flared.

“Me tell her? _YOU_ tell her! Don’t just sit there with your mouth glued shut like some kind of… of...,” Then, remembering his grandson playing in the next room, Sean quickly wrenched himself under control. “She’s destroying her health!” Sean hissed in a desperate whisper as he rose from his chair. “It’s hurting Patrick! It's hurting _her_!! For god’s sake, Orly, _say_ something! _DO_ something!” Orlando glared at Sean, furious at his father-in-law's attack, but he said nothing as Sean stalked into the next room, thinking that a few minutes with his grandson would help him regain his calm.

As he talked with Patrick he glanced toward the room where he'd left Orlando. He was already berating himself for his outburst, and watching his grandson play only made him feel worse. Patrick was the image of Orlando, and looking into his eyes left Sean feeling even worse about having argued with his friend. But he felt incapable of coping with another emotionally charged scene that day, so he told Patrick good-bye with as much composure as he could muster and left without apologizing to Orlando. He regretted losing his temper. He regretted going to Alexandra's house. He knew that at least half of his anger with Orlando could be traced directly back to the frustration and fear he felt over Elijah leaving to do this play.

 _This has got to stop!_ , he thought decisively and turned his car for home, determined to have a frank and honest talk with Elijah before he left for New York. He simply couldn’t bear the thought that they would be separated with this tension still unresolved. _I'll call Orly later and apologize,_ he promised himself. _First I need to talk to Elijah._

When he arrived he threw his briefcase to a nearby table and sprinted up the stairs two at a time. "Elijah!" He called eagerly. "Baby, where are you?" He turned to walk into their bedroom but stopped when he heard Gabby calling his name.

"Mister Sean?"

Sean leaned over the rail. "Yes, Gabby? Where's Mister Elijah?"

"He left, Mister Sean. That's what I wanted to tell you. He left earlier. He said to give you this note." She hurried up the stairs and handed him a folded piece of paper.

"Thank you, Gabby," Sean murmured. He felt numb with shock and for a moment he stared down at the paper unable to move. _He left without telling me good-bye,_ he thought sadly. Then he slowly opened the note and read:

Seanie,

Sorry I had to leave without saying good-bye. Had a chance to catch an earlier flight so I grabbed it. Didn't want to interrupt your meeting with a phone call. I'll call you tonight. I love you.

Elijah

Sean felt sudden tears sting his eyes, and he hurriedly shoved the note in his pocket. "Damn it!" he spat, then drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "God _damn_ it!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elijah tried to rest on the plane, but sleep eluded him. He hated to leave without saying good-bye to Sean, though it was less painful than having to see the sadness in Sean's eyes and feel the painful tension between them. By the time he got to his hotel and was able to call, it was nearly midnight.

"Hi!" Elijah said with forced cheerfulness. "Did I wake you?"

"No," Sean said quietly. "I wasn't asleep. Was reading actually."

"I'm sorry I had to leave without seeing you. Martin thought we could use the extra day to prep for the meeting."

"I understand," Sean said. "Good flight?"

"Yeah," Elijah replied. "Though I sorta missed having someone sitting next to me counting to sixty."

Sean gave a short, soft laugh.

"I miss you, Seanie," Elijah told him.

"I miss you too," Sean told him, his voice suddenly wistful. "God, Lij, I miss you so much."

The sadness in his tone tore at Elijah's heart. "I'm sorry for how things have been lately, Seanie," he murmured into the receiver. "I'll make it up to you when I get home."

"Nothing to make up for," Sean said. "I'll just be glad to have you home with me again."

"Call you tomorrow?"

"Please do," Sean said softly. He hesitated, then spoke again. "Elijah? I love you. I love you very much."

"I love you too, Seanie. Be safe."

Elijah hung up feeling somewhat less anxious and immediately fell into bed and into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He and Martin met for breakfast the next day and spent most of the morning discussing strategies for their upcoming meeting with the play's producers and director. Elijah had never worked with any of them, which wasn't surprising since their work was mainly in the theater. The director's name was vaguely familiar to Elijah and he wondered if they'd ever met. "Do I know this guy?" he mused to Martin. "Name seems familiar."

"Deacon Christopher?" Martin replied, shrugging. "He's never done any work in LA that I'm aware of. Maybe you heard someone else speak of him."

Elijah stared over Martin's head thoughtfully. "Deacon Christopher," he repeated. "Not sure where I heard his name." Then he shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"He's a young ambitious stage director in his early forties," Martin told him between bites of breakfast. "He's had some moderate success off-Broadway. Likes the dark, intense plays featuring gay characters... which makes sense."

"He's gay?" Elijah asked, reaching for his phone.

Martin nodded. "Probably why he's doing this play."

Elijah sighed and began a text message to Sean. It was too early to call the west coast; he knew Sean would still be sleeping. But he wanted to keep in touch.

 _Hi, babe,_ he typed. _Just a quick I love you before..._

He stopped typing when his phone abruptly rang. He glanced at the caller ID, hoping it was Sean and saw instead that the call was from Orlando.

"Hey there, Elf," he said brightly, quickly switching over to take the call. "What're you doing up so early?"

"Packing!" Orlando spat out. "Thought I'd call and ask if your boyfriend told you what he'd done to totally fuck up my life!"

"Orlando...," Elijah began. "Sean hasn't told me any—"

"After he spewed out his little diatribe browbeating me about what a lousy husband I was and how I wasn't taking care of his little girl and grandson, I took his advise and confronted Alex."

"Orly, what happened?" Elijah asked, stunned by what he was hearing.

"She threw me out!" Orlando said angrily. "Well, she was a lot politer than that, of course. Never lost the famous Astin cool. But the end result is the same. We're separating. Tell _Daddy_..." the word dripped with caustic sarcasm... "I said ‘thanks a lot’."

"God, Orlando, I'm sorry. I'm sure Sean never meant to—"

"Don't tell me what he meant, Elijah. He made his feelings perfectly bloody clear. I'm a worthless piece of shit who's nothing but a whipping boy in my own home."

"Sean _said_ that?" Elijah asked, horrified.

"Not in those words," Orlando conceded. "But the meaning was pretty clear."

"What are you going to do?"

"I dunno. Maybe go stay with some friends 'til some of this gets sorted."

"I'm in New York on business, Orly," Elijah told him. "But I'll be home in a few days. I'll call you then, and maybe we can figure this thing out. Alexandra will cool down. This is just a misunderstanding."

"I doubt it," Orlando said unhappily. "Sorry, Lij. Didn't mean to dump this on you. I'm just upset and angry and not ready to talk to Sean. Not sure I ever want to talk to him again."

"Orly, let's just go one day at a time. I know Sean never meant for this to happen. And I know—"

"Lij, please don't try to sell me on Sean right now, OK? I mean, I know Ally is his daughter, but I thought **I** was his friend. You didn't hear how he talked to me. You'd have thought I was _forcing_ Ally to spend eighteen hours a day obsessing over her bloody PhD! Fucking hell, I begged her a thousand times to slow down. I _told_ him that!" He sighed. "Look, buddy. I'm sorry I bugged you. Didn't know you were traveling. Call me when you get back."

Elijah promised to call Orlando when he returned to LA and hung up, his head reeling from this revelation, and more than a little annoyed that Sean would have confronted Orlando without discussing it with him first. "Damn!" he muttered, slamming his phone down on the table, completely forgetting about his half-finished text message to Sean.

"Problem?" Martin asked, looking up from his papers.

"No," Elijah muttered grimly. "Or at least nothing I can do anything to fix now."

They finished their breakfast meeting in comparative silence and arranged to meet later in the day. Martin wanted him to update his portfolio with a few images carefully crafted to resemble the character whose part he coveted in _Autumn's Pride_ and had arranged for Elijah to visit a well-known New York photographer in order to have the photos ready for tomorrow's meeting.

In preparation for the shoot, Elijah returned to his hotel room and carefully laid out the clothes he planned to wear. It was now late enough in LA that he could safely call and he thought about phoning Sean, but then decided against it. He was still upset over the news Orlando had shared and was hesitant to phone until he'd calmed down a little. Unfortunately, he didn't get the chance. Sean's ring tone chimed while he was still laying out his clothes.

For a moment he hesitated. He could simply not answer. He could give himself time to absorb what Orly had said before having this conversation. He _knew_ that's what he should do. But then, deciding impulsively, he pushed the 'talk' button.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"Hey," Sean said. "How's it going? I was afraid I'd wake you."

"No. Been up for awhile. Had breakfast with Martin, strategizing and all. I have a photo shoot in an hour or so."

"That's good," Sean said slowly, sensing some stiffness in Elijah's tone. "Everything OK?"

"Well, no, Sean, everything's not OK," Elijah replied. "I got a pretty upsetting phone call this morning from Orlando."

Sean made no response.

"Evidently Ally asked him to move out."

"What?" Sean blurted, clearly stunned. "I've heard nothing about this!"

"Orlando told me that you gave him one hell of a verbal beating the other night."

For a long moment there was silence. Then Sean spoke slowly, as if gauging each word. "Yes. I was pretty harsh. I was upset about...," he hesitated. "... other things and I took it out on him. But I said nothing that wasn't true, **and** I never once suggested that they separate!"

"After your _chat_ with him, Orly evidently felt compelled to confront Ally. Her response was to ask him to move out... which seems a bit extreme to me."

"Elijah, I need to call her. This is insane."

"I totally agree, Sean. The whole fucking thing is insane. What possessed you to confront Orly like that in the first place?" He knew he was challenging Sean about issues that were really none of his business but couldn't seem to stop himself. His nerves were ragged and being so far away at a time like this only made things worse.

For a long moment the only sound was Sean's increasingly uneven breathing. When he finally responded, his voice seemed deliberately pitched low... as if he were striving to be reasonable. "Elijah, going there and talking to Orlando was an impulse which I regretted almost at once. But nothing I said to him could possibly have led to this."

"Orlando sees it differently," Elijah replied curtly, "and frankly so do I. You tell me to stay _out_ of the situation with Dom and Billy, then you take it on yourself to interfere with Ally and Orlando? What the fuck, Sean!"

"This is my _child_ we're talking about, Elijah!" Sean said sharply. "And my grandchild! I couldn't just stand by and do _nothing_. Paddy was being hurt by it."

Now it was Elijah's turn to go silent.

"I felt," Sean began, then hesitated. He drew a deep breath, clearly fighting for control, then continued, "I felt that Orlando was the only one who could influence her and that he needed to take a firmer position. That is what I told him. And that is _all_ I told him."

"He's pretty upset," Elijah said, pitching his voice lower, striving to sound less adversarial.

"I'm sorry about that, and I will apologize to him when I get the chance. But right now, Elijah, I really need to call Ally. Can I call you back later today?"

"Fine," Elijah said, and immediately hung up. He sucked in a deep breath and stood for a moment, fighting the desire to throw the phone across the room, wishing with all his heart that he had not just hung up on Sean. This situation was rapidly moving from bad to worse.

"Fuck!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Back in Los Angeles, Sean sank into a chair still clutching his phone and trembling all over. He wasn't sure which he found more upsetting: the possibility of his daughter's separation from her husband or the continuing strain in his relationship with Elijah. They had both foreseen the problems between Alexandra and Orlando. But the problems between he and Elijah had come like a bolt from the blue and had completely shattered Sean's sometimes-fragile sense of safety and security.

He drew in a deep breath. He wondered if he had become inadvertently neglectful of their relationship. Had perhaps been lulled into a false sense of security by the past several years of complete happiness. _Should I have seen this coming?_ , Sean wondered. _Did I somehow miss some signal... some sign that he was unhappy?_

 _Stop it!_ , he thought, forcing his mind to focus. He knew he had an unhealthy tendency to second-guess himself and get lost in endless fantasies of doom and gloom when situations frightened him—and this situation frightened him badly. He knew he couldn't afford to go off half-cocked. He still had to deal with his daughter's situation, and that had to be his top priority right now. An entire continent stood between himself and Elijah. At the moment there was nothing he could do to remedy the problems between them. But he could at least talk to Alexandra and Orlando. Striving for calm, he quickly speed-dialed his daughter's cell phone and after only a moment, she answered.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Ally, are you alright? Elijah just phoned me. He heard from Orlando that you two plan to separate? Is this true?"

For a moment there was silence. Then Alexandra spoke, her voice small and soft, reminding Sean, painfully, of how she sounded as a child when something had hurt her. "It's true, Daddy. I've asked him to move out."

"But, Ally, _why_?" Sean asked. "Orly's a good guy and a great father."

"Tell you the truth, Daddy, I'm a little surprised to hear you talk this way after what Orlando said. He told me about your talk the other night."

"Ally, I regret how I talked to Orly that night. I shouldn't have interfered. I was worried about you and about Paddy. But I never suggested you two should separate! And I _never_ meant for it to come to this."

"I know, Daddy," she said quietly. "I don't blame you. I don't blame anyone." She sighed.

"Ally, maybe Orlando has a point. You _have_ been pushing pretty hard. Maybe you could ease off. Take a break for a semester or take fewer classes."

"Daddy, I've been through all this with Orlando. My program doesn't allow for that kind of flexibility! It's a very tough degree, but it's what I want. Can't he just hang in there for another year or so?"

"Ally, I worry about the effect it's having on Paddy. He hardly sees you." Sean knew he was in dangerous territory, but he felt he had no choice but to confront his daughter.

"That's not true!" Ally said sharply. "I _do_ see my son! And I'm getting tired of both you _and_ Orlando suggesting that I neglect him!"

Sean sighed. "Ally, I didn't use the word 'neglect' and I doubt Orlando did either. We just—"

"But he DID use that word. And you suggested it even if you didn't say it!" She sighed again. "Daddy, I have to go. It's a little hectic here this morning. I've got class and Orlando is packing his things. I've got to take Paddy to day care. I'll call you after things get more settled."

"Ally, please, please think about this!" Sean pled. "Don't decide impulsively. Give it a day or two!"

"Daddy, things are already past that point. And right now I have to run. I'll call you later, I promise."

"Ok, baby," Sean sighed in defeat. "I love you. Kiss Paddy for me."

He hung up and stood silently for a few moments staring at the phone, feeling utterly miserable. He knew where his daughter got her single-minded obsession with success and with attaining a chosen goal. It was a predisposition handed down from generation to generation in his family, and right now that compulsive-obsessive tendency had her firmly in its grip. For her... nothing else mattered except getting her PhD and it was clear that she wasn't yet ready to acknowledge the detrimental effect it was having on those who loved her.

Sean understood her passion. He also understood that she could easily be completely unaware of how unhealthy it had become. He'd been through it himself often enough to know how blinded one could become to one’s own neurotic tendencies. He prayed his daughter would eventually see how much more satisfying her life could become if she could bring herself to direct just a little more of that passion toward her husband and child. But he also knew that nothing he could say or do would move her toward that awareness. She had to come to it on her own... just as he had.

His broad shoulders slumped. "Jesus!" He was fearful that talking to his daughter hadn't helped a bit and he knew he wouldn't have a single moment's peace until these painful issues were settled. He thought about calling Elijah back thinking that they could talk through some of their problems, then decided against it. Right now Elijah was focused on his upcoming photo shoot and Sean didn't want to distract him. Besides, Sean had meetings of his own that were demanding his attention. He knew that trying to put his worries behind him as he moved to face his day was probably pointless, but he also knew he had to try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elijah's photo shoot took most of the afternoon, but it went off without a hitch. As usual, the photographer wanted him to adopt a _serious_ –and by that Elijah knew they meant _sexy_ –demeanor and for once that wasn't a problem. He felt heartsick about his conversation with Sean that morning. Clearly Sean had not meant to exacerbate the situation between his daughter and Orlando, and just as clearly he felt terrible that the situation had turned this dire.

 _I shouldn't have been so hard on him,_ Elijah thought contritely. _What the fuck is wrong with me lately? I'm flying off the handle way more than usual... or necessary._

After a long dinner with his agent he returned to his hotel room and dialed Sean's number but was instantly diverted to voice mail. Sighing, he hung up without leaving a message.

He stripped off his clothes and sprawled naked across the hotel bed, exhaustion seeping through his every pore. He found himself wishing for home, and his eyes burned with sudden tears. He pressed his face into the pillow and sighed. He would have given anything at that moment to have Sean near him and he caught his breath, yearning with all his heart for the protective strength of Sean's embrace. "Damn," he whispered. He turned to look up at the ceiling then shook himself hard. _Why am I feeling so sorry for myself?_ he thought. _I need to lighten the fuck up!_

He rose long enough to plug in his cell phone to recharge the battery, leaving it on and lying close enough that he could hear it if Sean called, then he lay back down and was quickly asleep.

When he awoke the next morning, he grabbed his phone to check for calls and messages. There were none. He sighed and bit his lip, staring down at the device. _Should I call him?_ he wondered, hesitating. _I've got an important meeting this morning. Be fucking horrible to do it after having a big blowout with Sean._

"I'll call him later," he said aloud, then laid the device aside and headed toward the shower.

Meanwhile in Los Angeles Sean was doing the exact same thing. He rose early and immediately grabbed his cell phone to check for calls or messages. There were none, though he noted that Elijah had called but not left a message. _Should I call him?_ he wondered, then sighed and laid the phone back down. _He's got a big meeting this morning with those producers,_ he thought as he headed for the shower. _I don't want to distract him._

As he stood in the shower he wondered to himself why Elijah hadn't left a message last night when he called. He immediately interpreted it as an ill omen. _Was he was too angry with me to even leave a message?_ He emerged from the shower feeling a dark cloud settling over his thoughts and tried desperately to shake off the gloom. _Stop it!_ he told himself sternly. _You have no idea why he didn't leave a message. Don't turn a molehill into a mountain!_

"I'll call him later," he said aloud, and began dressing.


	4. Time Of Our Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah begins his new project and for the moment things seem calm... then Orlando drops a bomb and surprising new influences enter their lives.

Elijah's second meeting with the play's producers and director had been going on for some time, but thus far he hadn't contributed much to the conversation. Everything relevant had been decided earlier that day at their first meeting. This was all just rehash and tinkering with numbers, and his mind was wandering, preoccupied with thoughts of Sean. Bored and restless, he was finding it hard to follow along with the rather dry negotiations Martin was conducting with the play's producers.

Glancing up he saw the director, Deacon Christopher, staring at him. Noticing Elijah's glance, he smiled and shook his head in commiseration, seeming to indicate that he also found the proceedings a bit boring. Then he smiled and gave a conspiratorial wink.

Elijah looked quickly down, but in spite of himself his eyes were drawn again and again to the dark-haired director. He was extraordinarily handsome, with a dazzling smile. During their introduction he had seemed somewhat intimidated by Elijah's celebrity.

 _Odd for a successful stage director,_ Elijah thought, trying in vain to refocus his mind on Martin's dialogue with the producers. He knew that Christopher would be the person he worked with most closely on this project, and he was intensely curious about the kind of man he was and what directing style he preferred.

But he also noticed that Christopher interrupted the proceedings several times to question Martin on points of procedure. His tone had been somewhat condescending and Elijah felt that his inquires were both intrusive and unnecessary. The producers finally looked at him sharply and he backed off, seemingly chastened.

"Well, that's it then," Elijah heard Martin say in a genial tone, shooting a look at the director. "Elijah, if you're happy with the arrangements we can call this settled."

Elijah flushed and tried to look as though he was aware of every detail. "I'd like a chance to look everything over one more time," he said, hoping he could get at least a few hours to look over the contract and question Martin about its contents.

"Sure," Martin said, and turned to the producers. "And if everything's in order can you gentlemen meet us here tomorrow to do the signing?" They agreed and Elijah rose, gathering a sheaf of papers in his hands.

"It's all pretty standard stuff," murmured a voice at his elbow, and turning he saw Deacon Christopher standing next to him. His voice was pitched rather low, and he shrugged as if dismissing the contract as irrelevant.

"Still," Elijah said quietly. "I want a second look." The director was taller than he was, and Elijah found himself looking up into a pair of soft brown eyes that gazed at him with undisguised interest.

"I understand," Christopher said sympathetically. "I'd feel the exact same way. But I wonder...," he paused and drew in a deep breath as if gathering courage then continued. "I wonder if I could possibly convince you to have dinner with me tonight. We could discuss the contract, and perhaps I might be allowed to share my thoughts about your character... you know… how I see him?"

Elijah hesitated, still gazing into Christopher's eyes. He had to admit it was a tempting offer. He was eager to discuss the young director's view of Blair Edwards and curious as to how he planned to approach the role. Elijah was a bit out of his element having never done stage work before, and this seemed a golden opportunity to get an elementary education from the man who could end up being his primary guide in the months ahead.

And yet something nagged at him. Something indefinable. A niggling warning in the pit of his stomach. _What is it?_ he wondered. The director seemed perfectly friendly if a bit over-ambitious. _Maybe that's a good thing in a stage director,_ Elijah mused, and dismissed his unease, chiding himself a bit for giving in to unreasonable anxiety.

"Sure!" he told Christopher, smiling. "I'd love to. I'm at the Ritz-Carlton, shall we save time and just use their dining room?"

Christopher hesitated, then shook his head, blushing furiously. "I apologize, Mr. Wood, but the Ritz is a bit out of my price range. If you don't mind, maybe we could just have coffee?"

Elijah laughed. "No, no. No need to apologize. Dinner's on me!"

The director started to protest but Elijah cut him short. "I insist. I'd appreciate the chance to get your take on the character. And it's 'Elijah'... please."

"Really?"

The man's smile was engaging, though somehow its warmth wasn't reflected in the director's eyes. They remained cool and somewhat calculating. _He's an actor too,_ Elijah thought, in a flash of insight. "Yes, really," he assured the other man. "See you around eight?"

Christopher held out his hand, and Elijah shook it firmly. When he began to withdraw the director hung on, his eyes meeting Elijah's with a look of frank admiration. "Eight it is... _Elijah_. I'll be looking forward to it."

Flustered, Elijah stepped back and seeing his confusion the director released his hand, smiled reassuringly, and turned to shake hands with Martin.

Elijah edged toward the door, saying his farewells, still feeling a bit bewildered. He knew the director was flirting—no way _not_ to know since Christopher was making no real attempt to hide his interest. And added to the stress and sadness of the past week or so, Christopher's attention left him feeling even more apprehensive than before. _What IS it with this guy?_ he wondered.

It had been so long since anyone other than Sean had been on his radar, even in a manner as casual and flirtatious as this, that he felt a bit rattled by the exchange. Now he almost regretted accepting the director's invitation. And yet he also knew he was going to be there at eight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the country, Sean was fretting anxiously. He had tried to return Elijah's phone call several times and had left two voice mail messages and had heard nothing in response. He knew Elijah had been in meetings most of the day, and he knew that his habit was to turn his cell phone off at such times. But the meetings should be over with by now, and there was still no word from him.

He wasn't having much luck with phone calls in general that day and was beginning to feel a bit frustrated. He'd also tried to call Orlando and gotten no response in that case either, in spite of having left him an extremely long and apologetic voice mail. _Is **everybody** mad at me?_ he wondered.

He regretted his conversation with Orlando, but he also couldn't help thinking that their discussion was being a bit over exaggerated. He understood that it was part of the drama flowing from the situation as a whole, most of which didn't even involve him.

He was beginning to realize that he'd spent the past few months of his life indulging his tendency to avoid encounters that might make him even temporarily unpopular with people he loved. He didn't have to ask what his ex-wife would say to this: he knew. Chris had begged him repeatedly to talk to the young couple about their difficulties. But Sean had always demurred, refusing to interfere. He tried to keep the peace and stay friends with both of them, hoping that they could work things out themselves.

He was learning, however, that this so called ‘peace’ came at a very high cost. Stress mounted within him at times like these, and eventually his suppressed feelings erupted at whatever opportunity offered itself, such as his conversation with Orlando and the one he feared he would eventually be forced to have with Elijah.

"And what good does it do me?" Sean muttered aloud. "I usually end up in the exact same situation I was trying to avoid! With everyone pissed at me. Being passive only makes things worse. If I simply talked to them in the first place rather than letting it all build up inside me... I wouldn't end up blowing my stack." He sighed and looked down at his phone, willing it to ring. But the phone remained silent.

"Elijah...," he whispered. "Call me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In his hotel room, Elijah stood staring gloomily at his suitcase. Bereft of Sean's careful packing, his clothes lay in a semi-rumpled pile, and he sighed wearily before rummaging hastily through them, seeking the outfit with the fewest wrinkles to wear to his dinner engagement. He'd been half-listening for his phone hoping that Sean would call, but it had remained silent, and he felt his concern rising.

He tried on a couple of shirts then stopped to ask himself, _Why am I getting so spiffed up for this thing? It's just dinner with a director. I've had a million of them._ For a long time he stared into the mirror, not really even seeing his reflection. _Am I attracted to this guy?_ he asked himself finally. The image that stared back at him was worriedly chewing his lower lip and frowning. He forced himself to think of Deacon Christopher and then of Sean, giving himself mental permission to compare the two. Then suddenly the image grinned.

"No fucking way!" Elijah said aloud. There was just no comparison. Christopher was attractive; there was no question of that. The man was an intense and forceful presence. But attracted? Attracted in a way that would endanger his relationship with Sean? No. It just wasn't there. Besides, there was something about the man that raised his hackles in a way he simply couldn't define.

Feeling relieved, Elijah whistled, snapped his fingers at the image in the mirror, and left the room to meet up with his director for dinner.

He spotted Christopher as soon as he entered the dining room. He was standing at the bar drinking a glass of wine, watching the door intently. The moment he saw Elijah his face lit up with a brilliant smile. He sat the wine down and walked to his side.

"Evening," he said quietly.

"Hello," Elijah replied, signaling the waiter. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"No. I'm a bit early, in fact."

They were quickly seated, and Elijah ordered a beer before studying the menu. Christopher followed suit.

"Order whatever you want," Elijah told him, indicating the menu. “I've told them to charge it to my room.”

The director laughed. "Pretty pricy stuff. I'm not used to this kind of...," his gesture included the entire dining room, "...ambiance."

Elijah shrugged. "It's just a restaurant."

"It's the Ritz!" Christopher told him, grinning.

Elijah shrugged again. "It's still just a fucking restaurant, Deacon, I don't care if they call it 'Windsor Castle'."

Their beers arrived, and after ordering they sat for a few moment sipping in companionable silence. Finally the director spoke: "Did you get a chance to review it?"

"The contract?"

"Yeah. I guess I'm kind of anxious to know your final decision." He glanced up at Elijah, shyly, through dark lashes. "I don't want to seem over-eager, but..."

"But..." Elijah responded. "But what?"

"But I am."

Elijah's eyes never left those of the man seated across from him. "I love the script. I love the character. I love the idea of doing a stage play."

"And the contract?" Christopher queried. "It meets with your approval?"

"As you pointed out. Pretty standard stuff."

Christopher's eyes were gleaming. "Elijah, you don't know what it means to me to think of directing you in this piece. It's just—just— _unimaginable_."

Elijah smiled easily. "It's an amazing script. And I love the character. Tell me," he said leaning forward eagerly. "How do you see him _before_ the accident? Worthless? Lost? Just immature? What's your take?"

All through dinner they discussed the play and the character of Blair Edwards. Christopher had clearly given a lot of thought to the character's development and he had, seemingly, already envisioned Elijah in the part.

"I _begged_ them to call you," he said passionately, leaning toward Elijah across the table, his eyes shining. "I knew! I knew from the first time I read the script that it had to be _you_ , Elijah. It just _had_ to be." Then he smiled and blushed... leaning back again. "Sorry," murmured, shaking his head. "I get a bit intense at times."

"There's nothing you need apologize for," Elijah remarked. "I'm in favor of passion."

Christopher leaned forward again, his hand stretching across the table to briefly touch Elijah's. " _Are_ you?" he asked, his voice pitched low, creating a compelling sense of intimacy in the midst of the crowded restaurant.

For a long moment Elijah silently stared into his eyes without moving or speaking. "Deacon," he said finally, "you need to know that I'm in a partnership. A completely committed partnership."

Christopher nodded and withdrew his hand. "I'd heard something..." He tilted his head and smiled ruefully. "... but I'd let myself hope that I'd heard wrong." He quirked an eyebrow as if thinking. "Sean Astin, isn't it? The guy who was with you in _Lord of the Rings_?"

Elijah nodded. "Also the guy who won an Oscar directing me in _Witness to History_."

"Evidently a very talented guy."

"That he is," Elijah said, smiling.

"And," Christopher added, "... a damned lucky one."

For the remainder of the dinner, the director's behavior was above reproach. They spent a long time discussing the play, and it quickly became clear that Christopher intended to be very much involved in the creative process. Perhaps even _too_ involved. In theater, the director's role tends to be less important once rehearsals are completed and the play has premiered. At that point the stage manager takes over responsibility for many essential concerns.

"I plan to both direct and stage manage," he told Elijah. "I don't want to leave my artistic choices in someone else's hands once the play has opened. I want to see it through."

For Christopher to assume both roles was an extraordinary move. Even with only a passing knowledge of stage work, Elijah knew that much. For a moment he made no response, studying the director intently, wondering just how much control he intended to exert. Finally he spoke: "Are the actors involved in those choices?"

Christopher took his point at once and smiled. "Elijah, I know your history. You've been a professional actor since you were a child. I respect your experience and your expertise and I want you to be my collaborator in this venture. I want your input."

"Deacon, I'm glad you feel that way. I don't like it when directors want to simply be fucking traffic cops. 'Go here.' 'Do this.' I like to be part of the process."

"You will be," Christopher assured him. "But there are still a few things I need to discuss with you before we go much further."

Elijah nodded. "Go ahead." He pulled his phone from his pocket and examined it as he spoke, his concern growing. _Why haven't I heard from Sean?_ he wondered, frowning. But the moment he looked at his phone his question was answered. It wasn't on!

"Oh fuck!" Elijah exclaimed, rising quickly from the table.

Hearing the alarm in his voice Christopher leaned toward him solicitously. "What's wrong, Elijah?"

"My fucking cell is off!" Elijah moaned. "I forgot to turn it on after the meeting." He turned to the director. "Deacon, I'll see you tomorrow when we sign the contract. I have to go now." He shook the man's hand and quickly walked out of the dining room, barely hearing Christopher's farewell. He was amazed at how much time had gone by; they'd been talking for hours! He hastily speed-dialed Sean's number as he walked toward the elevator and his lover answered on the first ring.

"My god, Elijah, where have you been? I've been worried sick!"

"Seanie, I'm sorry! I forgot to turn my cell on after the meeting. It's been such a hectic day."

"You haven't checked it all day long?" Sean asked him.

"Well, no. I had a dinner engagement tonight, and the time really got away from me."

"Dinner engagement?"

"Yeah. I had dinner with Deacon Christopher. He's the guy directing the play."

"I see," Sean said softly.

Elijah entered his room and sat down on the bed. "Sean, I'm sorry. It was an accident. I honestly meant to call you."

"It's ok, Elijah. I understand. So the deal is all settled?"

"I sign the contract tomorrow, though rehearsals won't start for several weeks yet."

"Do you _like_ this Christopher guy?"

Elijah paused, hearing the hesitancy in Sean's voice. "Well," he drawled finally. "He's no Sean Astin, but he'll do in a fucking pinch."

"You coming home tomorrow?" Sean asked more brightly, clearly reassured by Elijah's answer.

"Yes. I've got a late-morning flight. Be home early afternoon."

"You need me to pick you up?"

"No. My car is at the airport. You didn't notice it wasn't in the garage?"

"Thought you might have left it at Martin's."

"Nope."

"OK, baby. I'll be here when you get home."

"I'm glad, Seanie," Elijah said softly. "I've really missed you."

"Me too," Sean said softly. "I love you, Elwood."

"And I love you," Elijah echoed. "See you tomorrow. Goodnight, babe."

"I'll be here," Sean assured him. "Rest well, love."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The contract signing the next morning was uneventful. Everyone was in good spirits, and as he chatted with the producers, Elijah found himself eagerly looking forward to the project. Deacon Christopher's behavior that morning had been completely professional, and Elijah found it hard to believe that he'd had any reservations about either the director or the project in general.

As the meeting broke up, Christopher took Elijah aside. "We didn't get to finish our chat last night, and I've felt a bit concerned about you ever since. Is everything alright, Elijah?"

"Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten to turn my phone on after the meeting, and I hadn't called Sean since the night before. I knew he'd be worried is all. Everything's fine."

"There are still some fairly vital elements that I feel we need to discuss," the director told him. "Would it be possible to chat by phone in the next day or so?"

"Sure!" Elijah told him, already edging toward the door. "You have my number. Call me anytime."

Christopher nodded and waved. "Will do. Have a great flight."

Elijah slept for most of the flight home and after gathering his luggage he headed for the parking lot, eager to get home. As he guided his car onto the freeway he called Sean's number.

"Hey you!" Sean said happily. "You on the ground?"

"On the ground and headed your way," Elijah replied, grinning at the happiness in Sean's voice. "Be home shortly."

"I'll be waiting. I don't want you talking while you're driving, so I'll see you when you get here."

"Ok, Seanie."

"Be safe, baby," Sean said, and hung up.

When he arrived at home, he barely had time to get out of the car before Sean was at his side. He scooped Elijah into his arms and kissed him repeatedly.

"God, I missed you..." he murmured into Elijah's ear.

Elijah found himself trembling with the effort to fight back tears. The feeling of Sean's strong arms locked around him was overwhelming, and though he tried again and again to speak, words simply would not come. Sean seemed to understand. He rocked Elijah against him for a long time, covering his face in kisses. Finally he leaned back.

"Welcome home."

Elijah nodded, swallowing hard. "Glad to be here."

Sean reluctantly released him and reached into the back seat for his one suitcase. "I've got it," he told Elijah. Luggage firmly in hand, he wrapped his other arm around Elijah's shoulders and guided him gently toward the house. "Let's go in."

Their reunion was tender and loving. Neither of them said a word about the issues that had troubled their relationship. They were both determined to set all disagreements aside and savor the sweetness of simply being together. After spending the afternoon making love and lounging in their bed, they felt renewed... healed from within.

Finally though, Sean spoke. He dipped his head to kiss Elijah's upper arm, then nuzzled it gently. "I tried to call Orlando... several times. He won't call me back."

Elijah sighed.

"I left him at least three voice mail messages," Sean continued, "apologizing for what I said." He kissed Elijah's arm again. "Maybe he won't ever forgive me."

He sounded so forlorn that Elijah was forced to smile. "C'mon. Never's a long fucking time. He's as mad at himself as he is at you, Seanie. He'll see the truth in it eventually and he _will_ forgive you."

Sean stared down at the sheets for a moment as if studying them, then glanced up into his lover's eyes. "Do _you_ forgive me?"

Elijah shook his head then kissed Sean tenderly. "Nothing to forgive. I was out of line the other day. You're right. She's your child. I can't possibly know what that means to you. Seeing her hurt that way.... seeing Paddy hurt. You felt you had to do _something_! If they do separate, it's not your doing. It's theirs."

Sean nodded silently and Elijah knew that no matter what he said, Sean would continue to blame himself to some extent at least. "You can't fix everything, baby," Elijah said comfortingly, sliding the back of his fingers down Sean's face. "Though I have to confess that I do love watching you try."

Sean pressed his lips to Elijah's, overwhelmed by feelings of love and gratitude. "Thank you," he breathed, then after kissing Elijah again he sat up in bed and took his hand. "I suppose we should talk about New York now, huh? Do you know when you're going back?"

"Not for a few weeks anyway," Elijah told him, then frowned. "Maybe two weeks," he amended, then hesitated. "Maybe it's more accurate to say I'm not quite sure. I do need to look for a place, though I suppose I could hire someone to do that couldn't I?" He gazed up at Sean questioningly.

There were dark smudges under his lover's eyes and Sean had to force himself not to protest, yet again, about him taking on a new project at this time... especially one that was likely to be extremely stressful. Instead he lifted Elijah's hand to his lips and kissed it. "Of course you can have someone do that for you. And you don't need to think about any of that tonight. Let's forget it 'til tomorrow."

"Thanks, Seanie. I guess I'm not thinking too clear right now."

"You rest here. I'll go make you a cup of hot chocolate and some toast."

"Comfort food!" Elijah exclaimed.

Sean smiled and kissed his forehead. "I figured you could use some," he murmured, then rose and left for the kitchen.

The following day Elijah seemed somewhat renewed and in very high spirits. Being at home and with Sean had left him feeling healed and happy.

They both tried to call Orlando without success but did manage to have a slightly chaotic four-way conversation with Dom and Billy who were staying in Dom's apartment while Billy settled his divorce arrangements with Ali.

Discussing it later, they both agreed that Billy had seemed somewhat subdued, which seemed natural under the circumstances. "I worry about this arrangement," Sean confessed. "And did you hear Dom?"

"Yeah," Elijah replied dryly. "Everything he said seemed a bit forced didn't it."

"Very," Sean agreed moodily. He sighed. "Damn! I hope they'll be OK."

Elijah pursed his lips and frowned, then he took Sean's hand. "Can we sit for a few minutes? Sit and talk?"

"Of course!"

Sean allowed himself to be guided to their private patio where they sat close together on a comfortable glider. They rocked gently in silence for a few minutes: Sean's arm tight around Elijah's shoulders, holding him close to his side as though he were afraid Elijah might take flight. Finally Elijah turned to him. "I guess we should talk about New York."

Sean nodded, still keeping his arm tightly around his lover.

"Rehearsals are supposed to start in six weeks or so, but I may have to go back sooner for some prep work, and I need to find a place."

"Just be sure it has room for two," Sean interjected with a smile.

"Trust me, I will."

"What did you think of the people involved?" Sean asked.

"Very professional. The director seems nice, though a bit intense."

"He's the one you had dinner with... right?"

"Yeah. We were discussing the character and his directing style... stuff like that."

Sean chewed his lip, hesitating. "Errrm… is he attractive?" he asked finally, peeping at Elijah with a somewhat shamefaced grin.

"Yes, a bit," Elijah said laughing. "The dark and brooding type, I suppose you'd have to say."

"I'm feeling better about this all the time," Sean commented dryly, drawing another laugh from Elijah.

"He may be attractive," Elijah told him after kissing his cheek. "But I'm not _attracted_." He nestled close in Sean's arms and sighed contentedly. "I've got what I want right here."

The director rang Elijah up later that day, but Elijah let the call go to voice mail. He was enjoying his time with Sean and wasn't quite ready to allow the outside world in as yet. When he checked his messages later on, he found one waiting from Christopher.

"Hey, Elijah!" he said cordially. "Give me a call when you get a free minute, OK? A few things to discuss."

Elijah sighed and dialed the director's number. He answered almost at once.

"Hey, Deacon! What's up?"

"Hey, man. Sorry to bother you at home, but there are a few things weighing on my mind that I think we need to discuss."

"Shoot!" Elijah invited, settling himself in an armchair just as Sean walked into the living room carrying two beers. He raised his eyebrows questioningly and Elijah mouthed _'the director'_ as he took one of the beers from Sean's hand.

"I was actually thinking we needed to talk in person," Christopher said. "Do you know when you plan to return to New York?"

Sean made hand gestures asking if Elijah wanted him to leave the room, and Elijah shook his head emphatically, gesturing Sean into the chair opposite him. "Deacon, I don't know. I hadn't planned on coming back for two weeks anyway. Is there a real need for me to come back sooner?" As he spoke he could see the shadow that crossed Sean's face at the mention of his having to leave sooner.

"Well, buddy, it's like this," Christopher responded. "You're a movie actor... and a great one. But stage acting is a bit different, and I'd like to put you through a bit of 'basic training' before we start rehearsals."

"What kind of 'basic training'?" Elijah asked, lowering his head so he wouldn't have to see the sadness in Sean's eyes.

"Voice work," Christopher replied. "A bit of work with stage direction, which may be a bit different than what you're used to... things like that."

Elijah hesitated.

"It shouldn't take more than a week or so," Christopher said. "That would still give you a week at home before you were really needed here."

Elijah sighed. He had really wanted at least _two_ weeks at home, but it seemed clear he wasn't going to get it. "OK, Deacon. I'll try to book a flight sometime soon. I'll call you and give you the details later."

"Good deal!" Christopher said. "See you soon." And he hung up.

Elijah laid his phone aside, and forced himself to look into Sean's eyes. Neither of them spoke.

Finally Sean rose and bent over Elijah. "You ready for dinner?" he asked. "Thought I'd take you out tonight. Maybe some Italian to celebrate your new role." Elijah knew what it was costing Sean not to protest against _all_ of it. The role. The travel. The stress Elijah knew was ahead for him. His heart melted in gratitude and lifting his arms, he wrapped them around Sean neck and pulled him closer.

"I'd love to go out to dinner with you," he whispered, then kissed Sean passionately. "Just promise me we'll come home early enough to have a little..." he paused and kissed Sean again. "... dessert."

Sean laughed softly and pressed his face to Elijah's neck murmuring: "My very _favorite_ meal."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the week sped by Elijah tried to take comfort from the days he and Sean had together, feeling that he could somehow store the strength he was drawing from Sean's presence to tap into in the days ahead. But as the time for his departure drew near, he felt a persistent shadow grow ever darker in his mind and heart. He just had a bad _feeling_ about this venture.

Not about the play itself. He was still enthusiastic about portraying Blair Edwards—still eager to try his hand at stage work. But some as yet indefinable concern haunted him. He tried to shrug it off, eventually deciding his sense of unease grew out of his understandable reluctance to be separated from Sean. _It'll pass_ , he told himself repeatedly.

Besides, Sean would be coming to New York whenever he could. They had both made a firm commitment to try to keep their life together as close to 'normal' as possible under the circumstances. Elijah already had a broker searching for a New York apartment big enough for them to live in comfortably. No hotel rooms or flats. They wanted a place that would be their 'home on the East coast'.

When Elijah's phone rang on the day before his departure he glanced at the caller ID eagerly, hoping it was the broker with news that she'd found just such a place for them. But it was someone else entirely.

" _Orlando_!" Elijah exclaimed, holding the phone out for Sean to see the name.

"Answer it!" Sean urged, hunching closer to Elijah on the couch where they'd been relaxing.

"Hey, Orly!" Elijah said. "'Bout damn time you returned my call!"

"Hey, Lij," the clipped British voice responded. "Sorry it's been so long. I've had a lot on my mind. A lot happening."

"Are you OK?"

"Yeeeah...," Orlando drawled. "I am. But I have something to tell you... and Sean too... that might stir up some trouble and make things _not_ OK."

Elijah shot a guarded glance at Sean wondering what on earth Orlando was talking about. "Orly?" he asked slowly, feeling a sense of dread creeping into his veins. "What is it?"

Orlando drew in a deep breath, as if preparing himself. "I want you to tell Sean about this, Lij. I know he's going to be pissed. I expect it. And I'm sorry that—"

"Orlando!" Elijah broke in. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Sean leaned toward him, questioningly... obviously worried by what he was hearing. Elijah held up a hand asking him to 'wait', shaking his head to indicate that he didn't know yet what was happening.

"I'm going to try to get full custody of Patrick," Orlando told him quietly. "I think it's best for him right now. Ally isn't being a proper mum to him, Elijah. She's more interested in that damned degree than she is in her son. The lawyer thinks I have a good chance of winning."

For a long moment Elijah said nothing. He glanced at Sean, who was clearly growing agitated by the one-sided conversation, then drew in a deep breath.

"Ally will still have visitation, of course," Orlando continued. "Sean and Chris too! I'd never keep Paddy away from any of you!"

"Orly, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I'm positive, Lij. I'm doing this. Please tell Sean for me that I'm not mad at him anymore, though I feel sure he'll be bloody pissed as hell at me when he hears what I'm doing. If he wants to talk about it... tell him to call me. But I thought _you_ should be the one to tell him. Let him calm down a bit before he and I chat again."

"Fucking hell," Elijah spouted angrily. "Thanks a shitload, Orlando!"

"Elijah," Sean blurted. "What the fuck—"

Elijah reached out and took Sean's hand and squeezed it, while still holding the phone to his ear, clearly asking Sean to be patient one more second.

"Sorry, mate," Orlando said. "I have to go. Call me later."

"Right!" Elijah said disgustedly, and hung up. He was seething inside. Furious at Orlando for making this _his_ job. He drew in another deep breath, clenching his teeth. _Jesus!_ Elijah thought, angrily. _Haven't we had enough trouble already?_

"Elijah, for the love of GOD!" Sean burst out.

"Listen," Elijah said, turning to him and taking both hands in his. "That fucking Elf just dumped it on ME to tell you this and I'm pissed as hell about it. But, Seanie, you have to be told."

"What??!"

"Sean, he's going to try to take full custody of Paddy."

For a long moment Sean started silently at Elijah, his face growing ashen.

"Seanie?" Elijah whispered finally. "You OK?"

Sean swallowed hard and looked down, releasing Elijah's hands. When he looked back up Elijah could see that his eyes were swimming.

"God, Sean, I'm sorry. This is..."

"I'm glad," Sean interrupted. "I'm _glad_ , Elijah." He lowered his face into his hands, and Elijah could hear him struggling to hold back the tears. "Ally'd hate me for saying that," he murmured thickly. "But I know it's what's best for Paddy right now."

Elijah quickly took Sean in his arms, rocking him soothingly. "Baby, it's OK. It's all gonna be OK. Ally could never hate you. Never!"

"Yes, she would," Sean said, his arms winding around Elijah. "God, I hope she doesn't ask me what I think of it."

"If she does," Elijah said grabbing Sean's arms and pushing him back to stare into his eyes, "... you simply tell her that you **can't** get involved in this. That it is THEIR decision and THEIR choice, and that all you want to do is be there for Paddy no matter WHAT they decide. You hear me, Sean? Stay OUT of it! Don't let them push you into taking a side."

Sean nodded slowly, his cheeks damp. "You're right," he told Elijah, his voice still thick with suppressed tears. "I can't fix this. You're right. And for once I'm going to listen to you."

They spent the rest of the evening in quiet conversation, then retired to their bedroom. Neither of them had the heart for lovemaking. They simply held each other close.

"God, I'm sorry I have to leave," Elijah said vehemently.

Sean merely nodded.

"Seanie, I really am sorry."

Sean sighed and held him closer, tucking Elijah's head under his chin, cradling him in his arms. "You don't have to be sorry," he murmured. He sighed again, and Elijah felt a rush of guilt.

"Sean," Elijah said, lifting his head to gaze into his partner's eyes. "I _promise_ you. I'm OK!"

Sean smiled and nodded, and drew Elijah's head back to his chest.

Elijah knew that in spite of his smile, Sean wasn't in the least bit reassured. And he also knew that when he spoke his words of reassurance he'd been lying in his teeth.


	5. Time Of Our Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean's in LA. Elijah's in New York with an intense young director who is _definitely_ interested. Can Sean hold on to the love of his life??

Elijah's departure for New York the next day was hard for both of them, but they were determined to keep their sadness under control. This separation was necessary, and over dramatizing it wouldn't change a thing. At Elijah's insistence, Sean dropped him at the curbside check-in counter.

"You've got a big day ahead of you, too," he told Sean, squeezing his shoulder. "You head on to work. I'll call you later."

Sean nodded, not quite trusting his voice. Elijah started to get out of the car then hesitated when Sean caught the sleeve of his jacket. "Lij?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

Elijah leaned forward and kissed him softly. "Love you too," he whispered.

After an uneventful flight, he hailed a cab for the ride into Manhattan and as the city grew larger in the window he called Deacon Christopher.

"Deacon!" he said when the director answered the phone. "I'm on my way to the hotel. What's the schedule for today? Anything?"

"I'd like to have a sit-down with you if possible."

"What time?"

"Anytime you're free."

"Deacon, I'll be at the hotel in a half hour, and after that I have nothing to do. I'm here because you said you needed me here."

"Meet you in the lobby at four?"

"I'm in room 590. Meet me there at four."

"You got it, buddy." And he hung up.

Elijah sighed and leaned against the window, pondering the Manhattan skyline wondering what Sean was doing, and wishing he were home.

When he arrived at his hotel, the director was waiting in the lobby.

"Am I late?" Elijah asked, shaking his hand.

"Nah," Christopher drawled. "I'm early. Eager to see you I guess."

They spoke little as they made their way to Elijah's room, and after ushering the director into the living room, he dropped his bags in the bedroom, then went to the kitchen to grab refreshments.

"Wow!" Christopher exclaimed, gazing past huge sliding glass doors to a spectacular view of New York City. "Now _that's_ impressive!" Elijah re-entered, two beers in his hand and shrugged as he handed one of them to Christopher.

"I'm embarrassed to say that I hardly even notice it anymore." He sprawled in an armchair and gestured toward the couch, indicating that the director should sit. "OK. What's so important that you needed me back here early?"

His tone was somewhat edgy, and Christopher said nothing in response. He studied Elijah as if gauging his mood, then he drew in a deep, sudden breath and tossed a pamphlet into Elijah's lap. "I'd like you to look that over."

Elijah sat his beer on the table next to him and examined the brochure. "This is?," he began, then read for another moment. "This is a flyer for an acting school," he said finally, looking up in some surprise.

"No," Christopher replied, smiling. "It's not an acting school. It's a top-flight center where you can spend a week getting _voice training_."

Elijah glanced skeptically sideways at the director then back to the pamphlet. "I've heard of these folks," he said slowly.

"I said they were top-flight. They've trained some of the biggest stars on Broadway."

"Deacon, do you think I really need this? I _have_ done voice work."

"For movies, not for stage."

Elijah chewed his lip, still studying the pamphlet. He was suddenly feeling like a rank amateur, which he supposed in this context he was. It was years since he'd felt insecure about his craft, and internally he was squirming with discomfort.

"Elijah, you're a movie actor," Christopher continued. "You're used to using your face, and particularly your… " he paused, and his voice dropped a bit, "… _incredibly_ beautiful eyes to convey emotion. You're used to taking advantage of dramatic camera angles and close-ups to create a mood and draw your audience into the scene."

Elijah nodded, ignoring the flirtatious compliment. "All true."

"Even the voice work you've done has been for a movie, albeit an animated one. Scene structure and facial expression were tremendously important. On the stage it's much more about your _voice_ , and I'd like you to spend some time with a professional trainer so that your voice will be appropriate for the part and for your character."

Elijah nodded slowly. "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow," Christopher told him, rising. "I want you there at 9:00 a.m. I'll send a car for you at around 8:45." Then, to Elijah's surprise the director reached for his coat.

"You're leaving?"

"Yes," Christopher said, smiling. "I want you to relax tonight. Have a light meal, and go to bed early. Tomorrow, Elijah Wood, you hit the trenches."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next few days turned out to be tougher than Elijah had ever imagined they could be. At first, Deacon Christopher's insistance on voice training had seemed excessive, even unwarranted. After all, he'd been a professional actor his entire life. Why would he need training at this late date? But after one hour into his first training session, he realized how wrong he had been. The coach was skilled and professional, and Elijah immediately saw the value in the training process.

The first sessions focused on increasing his vocal strength, resonance, range, and flexibility. He was put through a series of exercises designed to awaken his vocal potential.

Deacon Christopher attended many of these sessions, coaching from the sidelines. "Focus, Elijah," he encouraged. "There's a link between your body, your voice, your imagination, and your emotions. Try to feel that link."

Elijah learned the value of vocal 'warm-ups', and was reminded of Sean gently nagging him to engage in this kind of preparation during the shooting of _Lord of the Rings_.

"You knew this stuff twenty years ago," he told Sean during one of their daily phone conversations. "You were doing it then!"

Sean chuckled. "You forget that I studied with Stella Adler," he reminded Elijah. Then his voice grew serious: "Pay attention to this stuff, Elijah. You can actually damage your vocal cords if you don't. They're just like any other muscle and need to be limbered up before engaging in the kind of use they'll get in stage work."

Within days, early rehearsals were added to the almost-daily voice lessons, and Elijah's schedule quickly stretched from eight-hour days to ten, and then twelve. He was growing more and more tired, and more and more frustrated. Christopher was now scheduling extra rehearsal time and constantly demanding that the cast repeat scene after scene after making only small and insignificant changes merely to test the effect.

At dinner with Elijah after a late rehearsal, the director was expanding on his voice teacher's counsel. "If you are really on your voice, it does more than improve _your_ performance. You'll be more present for your fellow actors and give them more to work with." He smiled across the table at Elijah. "It helps everyone, including yourself."

Elijah returned the director's smile then lowered his eyes. He liked Deacon well enough, though the man's flirtatious attitude left him a bit uncomfortable. And there was no question that he was creative and knowledgeable. But there were ongoing issues when it came to his methods as a director.

Deacon was setting a ruthless pace?driving everyone hard. To Elijah's mind, too hard. He felt strongly that some of the changes Deacon insisted on making to the script?over his and the writer's strong objections?diminished both his character and the arc of the story. Christopher was a micromanager, and for someone of Elijah's skill and years of experience, the constant control was very hard to take.

Equally exasperating was the fact that Elijah felt so untested in this new art form that he held his tongue when everything within him yearned to speak out. He saw Deacon making critical mistakes?instituting changes and implementing policies that would have been disastrous in a film project and which Elijah could see were just as disastrous here.

They were now in their third week of rehearsals and Elijah was growing more discouraged every day as he saw the director's influence steadily undermining what _could_ have been a stellar production. He had invited Christopher to share this late dinner tonight hoping he could work up the courage to approach him about his concerns and perhaps convince him to set a less frantic pace. But now, in spite of his ever-growing doubts, he still felt hesitant to speak.

He had insisted on doing this play... even fought with Sean over it. To voice second thoughts now would, he decided, make him look like a complete idiot. He was stuck with this decision and he was would just have to make the best of it.

"I'd better run," he said, tossing his napkin to the table as he rose to his feet. "It's late."

"And you haven't called _him_ yet today," Deacon inserted smoothly.

Elijah's eyebrows rose. "No," he replied slowly. "I haven't. Why do you mention it?"

"Oh, no reason," the director said with a shrug. "Just seems like he doesn't let you too far out of his sight." He glanced up at Elijah and smiled. "Not that I blame him." He hesitated for a moment, then added: "Is trust an issue for him?"

Elijah lifted his jacket from the back of the chair with one finger. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But I call him because I like talking to him, Deacon. He doesn't make demands on me."

Christopher held his hands up in front of him in an instinctively defensive posture. "Don't get me wrong," he said mildly. "I wasn't suggesting anything." Again, he shrugged dismissively. "Just curious I guess."

Elijah gave him a casual wave. "OK. See you tomorrow."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As Elijah walked across the lobby of his hotel and pushed the elevator button, Sean was on the other side of the country scowling into his phone receiver.

"Ally," he said to his daughter, forcing a calmness he was far from feeling, "I've said nothing to Orlando. I have no intention of making that mistake again. I've only talked to him once and I refused to discuss your situation. There's just no point to me getting involved."

"But daddy, he's threatening to seek sole custody of Paddy!! How can you _not_ get involved?"

"You and Orlando have to solve this by yourselves, Ally."

For a long moment there was silence on the other end of the phone. Finally Sean spoke: "Ally? You there?"

"I'm here, daddy," she said stiffly. "I guess I'm just in shock that my own father would stand silently by and let Orlando take my son away from me."

"Ally, that's _not_ what I'm doing! I'm not _letting_ him do anything! The only _side_ I'm on in this situation is my grandson's! Someone has to think about HIM!"

"And you think I'm _not_?" Alexandra asked shortly.

"Ally, please. That's not what I'm saying. You would never deliberately hurt your son. But right now you're not seeing things clearly! You and Orlando have to resolve this yourself. Your mom and I can't interfere. Our only goal in this situation is to be there for Paddy when he needs us. And that's what we intend to do!"

"Have it your way," she replied angrily. "I hope you and mom will be able to work out a visitation agreement with Orlando once he has sole custody of your grandson."

Sean drew in a deep breath. "Ally, you're angry at the wrong person. This situation was not created by your mother and I, it was created by you and Orlando. YOU, for refusing to be even a _little_ flexible about the time you're spending on school, and please don't tell me that your program doesn't allow for it because I know better. I went to that school and I know the professors. Your program _could_ be adjusted. AND," Sean added quickly before Ally could respond. "Orlando didn't help matters by refusing to confront you about it even when he KNEW it was damaging your marriage! I suppose in that area I'm guilty too. None of us wanted to discourage you... but it's gone beyond that now."

"You're saying this is all MY fault?" Ally gasped in shock. "Daddy how can you..."

"I'm not assigning blame to ANYONE," Sean interrupted. "I'm pointing out that you and your husband bear the responsibility for this problem. And you and your husband are going to have to solve it. Your mother and I are staying out of it. Our only goal is to be there for our grandson. NONE of this is his doing and he is the one who will suffer the most if you and Orland separate. HE is the one you need to think of now... you and Orly both."

"I DO think of my son," Alexandra snapped. "But I can see your mind is made up. Sorry I _bothered_ you, Daddy." And she hung up.

Sean stared at the silent phone, wracked by an aching sense of helplessness. He had never been this harsh with one of his children before. He'd always prided himself on being the best father he could possibly be. He'd tried to be there for his children even when it meant setting his own needs aside. He knew that he had said what _needed_ to be said for the sake of his young grandson, but to hear Alexandra talk this way took the heart out of him. He hoped he hadn't damaged his relationship with her beyond all repair.

"Jesus," he said in a choked whisper. He drew in a trembling breath, then jumped when his phone unexpectedly rang.

"Ally?" he whispered hopefully into the receiver.

"Nope," Elijah replied brightly. "It's me! How you doing?"

Still focused on his conversation with Alexandra, Sean was momentarily thrown by Elijah's bright tone of voice. "I?I dunno," he stammered.

"You don't know how you're doing?" Elijah questioned, laughing. "What kind of answer is that?"

"I?I wasn't expecting it to be you," Sean said vaguely. "It's kinda late."

"Yeah, sorry. I had dinner with Deacon."

" _Again?_ , Sean replied shortly, feeling suddenly threatened. "How many times does that make this week?" He could hear his voice rising almost against his will. His conversation with Alexandra had left him dreadfully upset. It was tainting everything he said. Everything he thought. He took a breath and felt hot tears burn his eyes. _Maybe I'm as bad a lover as I am a father,_ he thought irrationally.

"If you _must_ know, we've had dinner twice this week so far," Elijah burst out. "You have a problem with that? The man's my director, Sean. The time I spend with him is valuable!"

"More valuable than time with me," Sean replied woodenly, his fear fed by Elijah's sharp response. "You've made that abundantly clear."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You haven't been home in weeks!" Sean replied with sudden heat. "And what about the apartment you're supposed to find for the two of us?"

"When the hell have I had time for apartment hunting?"

"You don't have to hunt! The broker called **me** three time with apartments for us to look at because YOU wouldn't return his calls!"

"I've had no time for looking at apartments, Sean."

"But you have time for Deacon."

Elijah hesitated. He knew he was getting defensive for no reason. Something was obviously wrong. Sean _never_ reacted this way. But Elijah was caught in the heat of an explosive anger he couldn't seem to control. Exhaustion and his growing frustration with the play were instantly channeled into blinding a resentment which was all directed toward Sean. "I'm not going to listen to this!" he said, angrily. "How dare you accuse me! You're _way_ fucking out of line, Sean!"

Sean drew in a deep breath and tried to calm down. He knew his desperate need to have his absent lover close to him was driving his sharp reactions, that and his ever-present fear that Elijah would - that Elijah _could_ \- abandon him for someone else. He tried to speak. To apologize. But he couldn't find the words and he clutched the phone, stammering helplessly: "Elijah - I - I'm -"

"I've had enough of your crap," Elijah said, his voice icy. "I'll talk to you..." he hesitated. "...when I talk to you I guess."

"Elijah, _wait_!"

But he was gone.

Sean immediately called him back, but there was no answer. Furious and upset, Elijah had turned off his phone, thrown it to a corner, and stalked into the bedroom, leaving it behind.

He kept it off the following day. Angry and exhausted he paced his small dressing room brooding over their quarrel. When Christopher came in to inquire about him, he couldn't help venting his feelings. "I don't know what the fuck has gotten into him," he fumed, still pacing. "How can he not trust me after all the years we've been together!"

Deacon leaned back in his chair watching Elijah, his eyes glittering triumphantly. "You don't deserve this," he stated firmly. "He's being totally unreasonable."

"Jesus, I've had no _time_ to go apartment hunting! If it means that much to him why didn't HE fly out here and meet with the broker! Christ, doesn't he get that I'm busy?"

"Not to mention you're a bit tired. Doesn't he get _that_?"

Elijah straddled his dressing room chair staring morosely at the floor.

"Elijah, I feel guilty as hell about all of this. I've kept you on an insane schedule. Never occurred to me that it might be messing up your relationship with Sean."

"Deacon, I could have asked for a slower pace, but I didn't," Elijah said. "This isn't about you. It's about Sean. He needs to trust me."

"He sure does," the director snapped. He rose and stood behind Elijah putting both hands on his shoulders and massaging his neck. "Your tight as hell," he murmured. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Just relax. We'll take a walk, watch some TV."

"No," Elijah said, rising and shaking off the director's hands. "Let's work. Sitting around thinking about all this won't help."

The director nodded. "Whatever you want. But listen! Tomorrow's Sunday. We're off anyway. Let's you and me just go be sightseers and explore Manhattan a bit. You lived here. You know the place and can show me around a bit. Do you good."

Elijah hesitated. He felt an instant squirm of disloyalty to even think about spending that kind of time with anyone but Sean. And yet, the director was right that some leisure time might do him some good. _What difference does it make anyway?_ he mulled sadly. _Sean thinks I'm two-timing him no matter what I do._ Feeling a sudden burst of defiance, he turned to the director and smiled. "OK. Sounds like fun!"

"Pick you up at your hotel at nine for breakfast?" Deacon asked. "Or is that too early."

"No," Elijah replied. "Nine is fine. Now let's go to work."

Rehearsals didn't go well. Upset over his quarrel with Sean and feeling mildly guilty about his upcoming engagement with Deacon, Elijah was distracted and out-of-sorts. He missed his mark several times and flubbed his lines during a critical scene. The rest of the cast seemed to pick up on his mood, and no one was at their best.

Deacon didn't help the situation. He was sharply critical of the lighting in several key scenes and railed away at several members of the cast for flubbing lines while, notably, saying nothing to Elijah... a fact that Elijah knew was not lost on his fellow actors.

Frustrated and upset, he collared the director. "Knock it off!" he hissed. "Jesus, you're not helping by ragging on everyone! And please don't play favorites where I'm concerned! How is their resentment going to help my performance?"

Deacon patted his arm. "OK, OK," he said mildly. "I promise to be as mean to you as I am to the rest. Happy now?"

"Deacon, I'm serious!"

"Alright, Elijah. Relax. I'll handle it," he promised over his shoulder as he walked away, moving toward the playwright who was waiting with a sheaf of papers in his hand and an angry look on his face.

Elijah spoke to his cast-mates, trying to mitigate the damage he felt Deacon had done, taking complete responsibility for the day's blunders, and apologizing to all concerned. In spite of the director's favoritism he was well-liked by his fellow actors, and none of them really blamed him. There was, however, great and growing resentment toward the director and by the time lunch was called, the stage was rumbling with discontent.

Finally, in frustration, Deacon called it a day. "I want everyone here bright and early on Monday," he snapped as his players left the stage. Then he turned to Elijah who was standing in somber silence near the front of the stage. "Don't let it get to you," he said, laying his hand on Elijah's shoulder. "Everyone has a bad day now and then."

They walked from the stage together, and as they did so the director's arm crept around Elijah's shoulders. "Turn off your phone tonight and get some sleep," he advised.

Elijah turned to him, carefully stepping back a pace so that Deacon's arm fell to his side. "Maybe," he mulled with a sigh, his mind returning to the situation with Sean. "But I hate not communicating."

"Then call him!" Deacon said, shrugging. "Settle it once and for all. Far as I'm concerned, the guy owes you a lot. You're trying something totally new here, and you're bound to be stressed out a bit. Now isn't the time to be hassling you."

Elijah glanced at him. "Deacon...," he began.

"I know. I know," the director replied dryly." He's a saint. He's amazing. He's wonderful. I'm sure that's what you see, Elijah. But what _I_ see is you getting more and more stressed out every day and him not doing a damn thing to support you. And in fact...," he added as Elijah opened his mouth to speak. "... doing everything he can think of to undermine what you're trying to accomplish!"

"He's not like that, Deacon," Elijah said quietly, thinking to himself that it was the director's breakneck pace that was causing his ongoing stress. "You don't know him."

"No, and I'm not sure I want to."

Elijah lowered his head and said nothing.

"Look," Deacon said abruptly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't say anything, I know. But _you_ are my concern here... not him."

"Deacon...," Elijah said, his voice rising warningly. He was feeling more and more uncomfortable with this conversation. Even though he was furious with Sean himself, he still wasn't willing to let anyone else criticize him.

"OK. Let's just forget it," the director soothed. "I'll see you tomorrow and we'll go have a bit of fun. Sure as hell can't hurt. And who knows?? Might even help."

Elijah nodded slowly. "You may be right. OK. See you tomorrow."

"Let me walk you back to your hotel," Deacon offered.

"No," Elijah said firmly, walking toward the theater exit. "I'm gonna grab a cab." He left the theater feeling tired and upset. It was completely unlike him to be anything other than professional in his job performance. Today's rehearsal had left him disappointed in himself and more concerned than ever about the quality of the production overall. He yearned to get back to his hotel room so he could put this day behind him. Sighing, he turned on his cell phone and it immediately beeped repeatedly.

He had a dozen calls from Sean. Some in voice mail, some in text messages, and more that were just unanswered calls. "Oh, lord," Elijah moaned. He was already exhausted and not up to a long and emotionally draining conversation. He wasn't even sure he wanted to listen to his messages or read his texts. "Jesus, Seanie," he whispered half annoyed, half amused.

He ignored the messages long enough to hail a cab, but as it carried him to his hotel he listened to the first one. It was predictably, endearingly Sean. Bereft and apologetic, he explained the reason for his upset and begged Elijah to forgive him.

As soon as he reached his hotel room, Elijah deleted the rest of the messages?unread?and returned Sean's call. He answered on the first ring.

"Elijah?"

Elijah fell onto his bed. "You message anyone else a dozen times today?"

"No," Sean muttered. "Sorry about that. I was a little upset."

"Yeah," Elijah said dryly. "Me too."

"I'm sorry, baby. I really am."

"Sean, this separation has been hard on me, too. But the play opens in a little over a month and the pace here has been brutal. I just don't have time for apartment hunting. I barely have time to breathe. You don't seem to get that!"

"Elijah, I do. Honestly, I do."

"And this thing about Deacon!" Elijah continued, his voice rising sharply. "It's just insane, Sean! I have no interest in the man. I have no interest in ANY man other than you. For you show such a lack of trust in me is...," he hesitated.

"I know!" Sean interrupted suddenly. "Elijah, I know. I was out of line. I DO trust you. I was upset about Ally and dumped it all on you. I'm sorry!"

"OK!" Elijah snapped. "You're sorry. OK." Realizing that he was nearly shouting Elijah deliberately lowered his voice. "OK." He didn't want to drag this argument out. He wanted it over so that he and Sean could be the way they'd always been. But he felt a loss of control churning within him that threatened to overwhelm his good sense. He had a sudden awareness that this same loss of control had caused him to overreact to Sean's outburst in the first place. Normally he would have simply insisted that they talk until he discovered the real source of Sean's upset. He would have known it was a momentary lapse caused by outside forces rather than an issue at the core of their relationship.

"We're both making mountains out of molehills," he said aloud. "Both of us!"

"Jesus, you can say _that_ again," Sean replied. "And it's not good, baby. It's not good at all."

"Not much we can do about it at the moment," Elijah told him. "We're in the home stretch with rehearsals and there's just no way I can get away right now. Even if you came _here_ we wouldn't have much time together."

"So we're stuck with this situation," Sean murmured.

"Guess so."

Sean took a deep breath, knowing that what he was going to say next was certainly not what Elijah wanted to hear. "Lij, I am sorry about everything. But you just haven't seemed like yourself since you got to New York. I know you're not interested in the director, but he seems to be the only one who gets any real time with you. He's driving you too hard, and it worries me. You were exhausted even before you took this project, and it's only gotten worse since then."

"Sean, don't start! I'm in it now and there's no way I could back out even if I wanted to... which I don't. And Deacon isn't _driving_ me! I'm perfectly capable of slowing my pace if I wanted to... but I don't! This play is _important_ to me. I've tried to tell you that from the very beginning, but all you've done is criticize."

"It's not criticism!" Sean said forcefully. "It's _concern!_ " He quickly lowered his voice. "Elijah, why the rush? Why not set an easier pace? Why the constant changes? Why add more voice lessons and all this extra rehearsal time when he knows you're already tired? Why push to get the play out so quickly? It's a quality script. He could afford to take his time with it and do it right. None of this is really necessary!"

Elijah was silent. Sean's fears perfectly echoed his own anxiety with regard to the play. It was going too fast. There were too many sudden changes. Everyone was exhausted. Everyone was frustrated. And it could all be traced back to Deacon.

But Elijah was unable to share his fears with Sean. He had bullied Sean into acquiescing to this project in the first place. He'd been unwilling to listen. He wanted what he wanted. Now, in spite of the fact that _Autumn's Pride_ was still an amazing play, his inner self knew instinctively that Deacon was taking it in a bad direction and that everything about the production was slowly going sour.

"Listen, Sean," he finally murmured wearily. "I understand your concern. I appreciate it. I love you. But right now I just can't deal with it... OK?"

Sean made no response.

"If you want to fly out and look at some apartments with the broker, then do it. I'd be happy to get out of this hotel."

"OK," Sean said slowly. "Maybe I'll do that. At least I'd get to see you."

"I'd like that," Elijah responded.

They ended the conversation amicably, but the growing awkwardness between them was a gut-wrenching fear in Elijah's stomach. There'd never been this kind of tension in their relationship before. Never. And he wondered suddenly if any play no matter what its potential was worth the kind of injury this seemed to be doing.

But he was in it now. Committed. He couldn't back out even if he wanted to. He was contractually obligated for at least the first six months of the play's run, so like it or not he would simply have to make the best of it. "And," he muttered to himself grimly, "so will Sean."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sean, meanwhile, was hurriedly booking a flight to New York. Whatever the issues between himself and Elijah, whatever the cause of their recent estrangement, it wasn't going to be settled over the phone. They needed to talk face-to-face and Sean knew with ever-increasing certainty that he had put this conversation off way too long. He still dreaded the confrontation that he felt certain was ahead of him. But he was determined not to procrastinate any longer or to soft-pedal the emotions that were roiling within him. He was going to confront Elijah honestly and let the chips fall where they may.

 _I'm always so afraid that the truth will break my heart,_ he mused. _Wouldn't I be surprised if it didn't!_

He managed to find a flight leaving in the wee hours of the morning and, shoving aside any anxiety he might be feeling, he bought his ticket and dashed upstairs to pack. An hour later, overnight back in hand, he was headed for the airport. He left a short note to Gabriel telling her he'd call her sometime during the day and was nearly out the door when his cell phone rang.

He glanced at his watch and, alarmed by the lateness of the hour, quickly answered.

"Hello?"

"Sean? You awake?"

"Orlando?" Sean asked. "That you? Yeah, I'm awake." He dropped his bag to the floor and perched on the arm of the sofa. "What's up?"

"Wanted to tell you, man. I'm really sorry about how things have been going. Ally and I are both sorry."

Sean sighed. "Everyone goes through hard times, Orly. And I'm really sorry for anything I did to make it harder. I was just worried about Paddy. That was my only concern."

"I know that, man. And so does Ally. That's why I'm calling you so late. We wanted you to know that I'm back home. We had a long talk tonight and Ally's going to cut back on her classes to spend more time with Paddy and me."

"Orly, that's fantastic!!" Sean said, relief flooding through him like a tidal wave. "How'd you talk her into it?"

"I didn't! " Orlando protested. "I think the 'come to Jesus' talk you had with her the other night finally opened her eyes. She realized that you were right... that the one really being hurt by our situation was Paddy. And we both realized how wrong we were to blame you for any of this. We're going to get counseling and try to work on being better to each other.... for Paddy's sake."

Sean could barely speak past the ache in his throat. "Tell her I'm proud of her," he whispered. "And I'm proud of you too, Orly."

"We love you, Pops," Orlando told him. "We'll bring Paddy by tomorrow."

Sean laughed. "Better not. I'm headed to New York to meet Elijah. Not sure yet when we'll be back. I'll call Ally in the morning."

"Ok, man. Thanks, Sean. Give Elijah our love."

"Will do, Orly. Thanks for calling me."

As he hung up the phone and retrieved his bag his heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. _Wow!_ He thought in amazement. _Some GOOD news for a change!_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elijah was waiting in the hotel dining room the next morning when Deacon arrived for their breakfast. He was determined to confront the director about conditions on the _Autumn's Pride_ set and the direction the play was taking overall. He wasn't happy about interfering this way. It simply wasn't his style. But there was only a small window of time now in which changes could be made, and Elijah was resolved to, at least, _try_ to get the production back on track.

As they ate their breakfast Elijah could feel his inner reluctance growing, and fearful that he might back out, he decided not to wait, and as soon as the director had finished eating Elijah tossed his napkin aside. "Deacon, could we go to my room for a few minutes before we head out? There are some things I'd like to discuss."

The director readily agreed. "Love to! There's a few things I want to talk about too."

Neither of them said anything during the elevator ride, and when they entered his room Elijah took a deep, calming breath and walked to the window. He stood, gazing at the cityscape below him, trying to focus his thoughts. He wanted to be diplomatic in the way he approached the director, but he also knew he had to be firm. Deacon was a strong personality, and Elijah knew how important it was that he project strength as well.

He turned to find the director standing right beside him. "Beautiful isn't it?" he said, suddenly linking his arm with Elijah's. "You're going to own this town, Elijah."

"Deacon," Elijah said. "There are a few things we need to discuss." He tried to gently disengage himself, but instead of releasing him the director turned Elijah to face him and laid both hands possessively on his shoulders.

"Anything you want, Elijah," he said softly, moving his hands to the back of Elijah's neck and insistently drawing him closer.

Elijah gripped the director's wrists and tried to push his hands away. "Hey!" he said warningly. "Knock it off, Deacon."

The director pulled harder. "You _asked_ me up here!" he interrupted. "C'mon, Elijah. You know this is what we both want."

For a moment Elijah stared at him in wide-eyed shock, his hands still gripping the director's wrists. Then before he could respond or back away, the door behind them suddenly opened.

"Well, isn't _this_ sweet," said a familiar voice.

They both wheeled to see Sean standing in the entrance staring at them, white-faced and shaking.


	6. Time Of Our Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does the unscrupulous Deacon Christopher have the power to destroy their relationship?

"The door was open," Sean stammered looking from Elijah to the director. "I - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - to -"

"Sean!" Elijah cried, "it's not- "

"Hey man," Deacon sneered, sliding his arm around Elijah's shoulder. "If you don't treat him right then you've lost the right to whine about it when he finds someone who does."

Furious, Elijah jerked away. "Deacon!" he spat. "Stop it!" He wheeled to Sean who still stood silently in the doorway. "Sean, it's not what you're thinking!" He took a step toward the door, but without a word Sean turned and lurched from the room.

Elijah turned on the director, shaking with rage. "Damn you! Are you fucking insane? What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Pointing out that this guy doesn't trust you," Deacon replied angrily. " And there can't be much love without that!"

Ignoring him, Elijah bolted to the door and looked out into the hall. Sean was gone. "Fuck!" he spat, returning to the room and moving quickly to grab his cell phone. "It's not up to you to point out _anything_ about my relationship!" he shouted. "Back the fuck off, Deacon! It's bad enough that you're destroying what could be a great play. Don't try to destroy what I've got with Sean along with it, or contract or no contract I'll walk off this project in a hot fucking second!"

"Destroying the play?" the director responded, clearly amazed. "ME? Elijah, you must be joking!"

"Yes, you!" Elijah shouted, moving to face the director. " **That's** why you're here, Deacon. So I could deal with it and try to stop you!"

"Look," the director said, reaching to grasp his shoulder. "You're upset. I understand. We can talk about this."

Elijah froze, staring directly into Christopher's eyes and when he spoke his voice was deadly calm. "Take your fucking hand off me, Deacon. Do it now." The director slowly lowered his arm.

Elijah moved a few steps away and hit the 'speed dial' number for Sean's cell phone. Predictably, there was no answer.

"Fuck!"

"Elijah, this may be all for the best. Think about it! The guy just hasn't been there for you!"

"Get out, Deacon," Elijah demanded, pointing toward the door.

"Just calm down," the director said, moving closer to Elijah. "We can talk about the play."

"Oh, we're _going_ to talk about the play you fucking asshole, but right now I have bigger fish to fry." He moved swiftly to the director's side and shoved him forcefully toward the door. "Get OUT!"

The director stumbled, then caught himself and wheeled toward Elijah in a semi-crouch. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" He caught Elijah's shirtfront and jerked him forward. "Listen, you pretty-boy movie actor," he growled in a menacing tone. "Spare me your high and mighty bullshit. You're a fag just like me. I've played along because you're the big movie star with all the pull and influence. But that's over."

Elijah tried to pull away and teetered, off balance.

Still grasping Elijah's shirtfront, Christopher took the advantage and yanked him closer forcing Elijah to stumble and fall toward him. In a matter of seconds the director had grabbed Elijah's hair with his other hand and jerked him forward into a viciously brutal kiss.

For a moment they struggled fiercely in total silence then, finding an inner reservoir of strength deep within him, Elijah wrenched himself free of the director's painfully tight grip. Disgusted and enraged he backed away, gasping for breath. "You bastard!"

Christopher lunged forward, his right fist arcing toward Elijah's face, landing a blow on his left cheek. Then, sensing victory, he reached for his quarry who was staggering backwards. "C'mere, you fucker," Christopher growled. He took a half step toward Elijah, then cried out in surprise and pain as he was abruptly wrenched off his feet and slammed violently to the floor.

"Don't even **THINK** about touching him again!" Sean snarled, standing over the director, his body carefully positioned between the director's prone form and Elijah.

"Fuck you!" Christopher screamed, staggering to his feet.

Sean quickly moved toward him, fists clenched in white-knuckled fury. "Get the fuck out of here," he snarled through clenched teeth. "Before I put you in the fucking hospital."

The director backpedaled toward the door, his eyes fixed on Sean who was quickly bearing down on him. Christopher was bigger than his adversary, but something in Sean's eyes quickly convinced the director that the white-hot fury he saw reflected there was more than he cared to deal with.

"You're fired!" he screamed over his shoulder as he reeled into the hall and turned to make his escape.

Sean followed him and stood, silently watching, until the director was out of sight. Then he slowly unclenched his fists and turned to Elijah.

"Does he mean me? Or _you_?" Sean asked, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips.

"Oh my god," Elijah croaked in a hoarse whisper. "Oh my god, Sean." He was trembling with rage and leaning against the sofa for support.

Sean quickly moved to his side. "Are you alright?" he asked, cupping Elijah's chin in his hand, peering anxiously at his cheek. "Did the bastard hurt you? If he did I'll go find him right now and finish the job."

"No," Elijah replied, grasping Sean's wrists. "I'm fine. He barely grazed me. I'm just fucking furious, that's all."

Sean nodded and drew Elijah into his arms, holding him close.

"Seanie," Elijah stammered against his shoulder. "Honest to god there was _nothing_..."

"Don't," Sean interrupted, shaking his head. "Elijah, don't. You don't have to explain. I know. I had come back to apologize, but then I saw what he was doing...." His voice trailed off and he silently rocked Elijah against his body. "God, baby, I'm so sorry."

"Jesus!" Elijah spat, pulling free of Sean's comforting arms. "That fucker _kissed_ me!" He shuddered and began to restlessly pace around the small living room. "The bastard!"

"Come sit down," Sean encouraged. "You've had a rough morning. Relax for a minute." He fell onto the couch and held out his hand to Elijah. "Come sit with me."

"I can't," Elijah ground out through clenched teeth, still pacing. "I can't sit, Sean. I'm too upset."

"He's gone, Elijah," Sean soothed. "He won't be back, you can count on that much. The man's a low life. Last thing he wants is honest confrontation."

"I wish he _would_ come back!" Elijah blurted. "Give me the chance to kick his fucking ass!"

"OK, babe. I understand. I'd like that too. But right now what we might need to think about instead is what to do about the play. The man just fired you."

" _Can_ he fire me?" Elijah asked, coming to a sudden halt.

"Hell, Lij, I don't know. I haven't seen the contract. I don't know _what_ the fucker can do. Maybe you need to call Martin?"

"It doesn't really matter," Elijah said tightly. "I don't ever want to be in the same room with that bastard again." Suddenly light-headed he collapsed to the couch beside Sean, his head dropping into his hands. "Jesus," he moaned. "What a fucking mess this has turned into. It's such a good play, Seanie. I know I could play the hell out of that role. But Deacon's been screwing the production up from the get-go. You were right about that. He's destroying the project with his megalomania." He turned toward Sean. "You were right about everything. I didn't want to admit it after being such a jerk about doing the play in the first place."

"You weren't a jerk," Sean said, his arm winding around Elijah's shoulders, drawing him closer. "You were passionate about the project like you always are."

"I was a jerk," Elijah corrected.

"Well," Sean conceded with a small smile. "Maybe a little bit." He laughed softly and hugged Elijah close, and Elijah allowed himself to relax into the comfort of Sean's arms. His violent rage was slowly ebbing, replaced by exhaustion and a welling sense of sadness. But Sean's body was solid and firm against his own. His arms were strong and reassuring, and Elijah felt his heart warm with a growing sense of gratitude.

"Hey," he said softly. "Did I remember to thank you for charging in here like the fucking cavalry and saving my weenie ass?" he asked.

Sean shrugged. "You could have handled him. I'm just sorry I didn't get to land even one solid punch before he turned tail and ran."

Elijah slowly leaned back and looked around the room. "Where's my cell phone? I was trying to call you when the bastard grabbed me." He stood and began prowling the room. "Where the hell..."

"It's right there," Sean said, pointing. "Right next to your foot."

Elijah grabbed the phone quickly called his agent. It took him only a few moments to bring Martin up to speed. "What should I do now?" Elijah asked.

"Sit tight," Martin advised. "Don't talk to anyone. Don't do anything."

Elijah assured his agent that he would do as advised, and Martin promised to call him back as soon as he had assessed the situation. "Understand this, Martin," Elijah said before hanging up. "I will _not_ work with that man. Not after this."

"Hey," Martin replied. "He fired _you_! And Sean saw and heard this... right?"

"Right," Elijah confirmed. Then he sighed and hung up. "Well, Martin's on the case," he told Sean. "Now I guess we just have to wait and see." He flopped down next to Sean again. "I've really fucked this up."

Sean could see that he was pale and trembling. He gripped Elijah's shoulders. "Listen to me. You did nothing wrong."

Before Elijah could respond his phone rang and he answered at once, thinking it was his agent. "Martin?"

"No. It's me."

"Dom?"

"Yeah. You got a minute?"

Elijah turned the phone so that Sean could see the caller ID and Sean shook his head sadly. "This can't be good. "

"Sure, Dommie," Elijah said into the receiver. "What's up?"

"Bill's gone back to Scotland," Dom replied sadly, his voice a gruff whisper. "He couldn't stay away from the kids."

"What about the divorce?"

"I dunno', Lij. I don't know what's going to happen now."

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Elijah clutched the phone with a trembling hand. "Dom," he stammered. "I- I- don't know..." He raised his eyes pleadingly at Sean who quickly took the phone from his hand.

"Dom, it's me," Sean said quietly. "What happened?"

He listened silently for a moment, reaching out as he did so to take Elijah's hand and grip it tightly in silent support. "Listen, buddy...," he said finally. "...you had to know this was one possible outcome. And until you hear from Billy you can't know how this thing is going to turn out long-term. So there's no point to freaking out now. You just have to be patient."

After another moment of silence Sean continued. "Look," he said more firmly. "Right now Elijah and I are in New York so we can't do much to help out. He's going through a nightmare of his own with a vicious, asshole of a director who just attacked him in his own apartment."

Sean smiled. "No, no. He's fine. You don't need to fly out here and kick the guy's ass. We've already formed a posse. Just take care of _yourself_ 'til we get back... OK? Then I promise we'll be there for whatever you need." He squeezed Elijah's hand winking and nodding reassuringly. "OK, buddy. No problem. I'll tell him. We'll call you later today." And he hung up.

"He's OK," he assured Elijah. "He loves you and is ready to fly out here on a moment's notice to join the posse."

Elijah couldn't help but smile.

"And he says he'll be fine." Sean added.

"All we need now is for Orlando to call," Elijah observed dryly.

"Damn!" Sean blurted, smacking his head. "I forgot to tell you!! Orlando called me just before I went to the airport. He's back home! He and Ally are going to counseling and she's agreed to cut back on her school hours."

Sean's face shone with such joyful elation that Elijah felt a lump form in his throat. He caressed his partner's cheek. "God, Seanie, I'm so happy. For them... and for you."

"I'm just happy for my," he hesitated. "for _our_... grandson. He's the one who'd suffer most if they broke up."

Before Elijah could reply the phone rang again and Sean glanced at the caller ID. "Martin," he said, holding the phone out to Elijah who shook his head wearily.

"Seanie, would you?" he asked.

Sean quickly thumbed the phone. "Martin, it's me. Tell me what's going on."

For a moment he sat, quietly listening. "Martin, who's funding this thing?" After another moment's silence, he smiled. "Now _that's_ interesting!"

"What?" Elijah demanded. "What's interesting?"

Sean held up one finger, asking him to wait. "Does it have to be _today_?" For a moment he was silent, then sighed. "OK, Martin. One o'clock? We'll be there."

He turned to Elijah with a grin. "Let me ask you something."

" _What's_ interesting, Sean?" Elijah demanded sharply. "What's happening at one o'clock?"

"Have I kissed you since I got here?" Sean continued smoothly, crooking a questioning eyebrow at his lover.

Irritated, Elijah drew in a quick breath, then he looked into Sean's eyes and saw the love glowing there, steadfast and enduring, and his annoyance melted away. "Well, we've been a bit occupied," he replied, smiling slowly. "So no, you haven't."

"Let me fix that," Sean said softly. His hand cupped Elijah's face and drew him gently forward into a tender, lingering kiss.

"And now," Sean continued, releasing him with obvious reluctance. "What's interesting is this. I know the people funding this project. They're friends of my dad's. You know he's done theater for years, and these guys have funded a couple of his projects."

"And what's happening at one o'clock? Sean, I won't be in the same room with Christopher. It would lead to big trouble, believe me."

"No, no," Sean assured him. "He won't be there. We're meeting with the producers. Martin told them what happened and indicated _strongly_ that you were prepared to press charges for assault, so they insisted on coming here to meet with you right away."

"Should we call the police then?" Elijah asked worriedly. "File a report?"

"No," Sean told him, standing up and drawing Elijah up with him. "You have twenty-four hours to file a report. Martin checked. They want to circumvent that if they can and they _can_ if they fire that rat-fuck bastard **today**!"

Elijah nodded. "If they want me in the play they're going to _have_ to fire him."

"That's more or less what Martin already told them, and that's the subject of the meeting." He tugged Elijah toward the door.

"Where we going now?" Elijah asked, clutching Sean's hand like a lifeline.

"Lunch!" Sean said, grinning. "I'm starved! Being a knight in shining armor is hungry work!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They took their time over lunch but Elijah only picked at his food. He was still deeply troubled by the day's events and worried about the future of the play into which he had invested so much of himself.

Sean watched him anxiously, but said little. He knew Elijah needed time to focus his thoughts and process all that had happened. Nothing he could add right now would help. Elijah needed to think it through for himself and make his own decisions.

Finally, Sean glanced at his watch. "The producers will be here soon, babe."

"Seanie, I honestly don't know what to tell them. I don't want to leave the play, but I know I can't work with Christopher."

Sean reached across the table to take his hand. "Then tell them that," he said, shrugging. "They know what that guy did to you. And unless they're total idiots they also have to know what he's been doing to undermine the whole production. Put it on them, Elijah. Don't take it on yourself."

Elijah nodded. "You're right." He sighed, chewing his lower lip. "I feel so bad for the rest of the cast."

Sean nodded thoughtfully, then suddenly rose. "Wait for me a minute, baby. Need the restroom." He stroked Elijah's hair as he moved past him, and Elijah saw him reaching for his cell phone.

He was back shortly, walking up behind Elijah and laying both hands on his shoulders. "They're here. Martin just grabbed me in the lobby. He's lined up one of the conference rooms here at the hotel."

Elijah nodded and rose. "Let's do this." He was feeling calmer now and greatly strengthened by Sean's solid presence. "You'll be in the room," he said as they walked toward Martin and the producers. "Right?"

"Count on it," Sean said firmly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting had a rocky start. The producers were horrified by the director's behavior but initially resisted the idea of firing him. "At this late date we'll have to give him a severance payment," they explained. "That could run into thousands."

"Think of how many more thousands you'll _lose_ if Elijah backs out of this project," Martin challenged. "He doesn't have to work with someone who assaulted him! It terminates his contract! End of story!"

The producers gave no response.

"Plus," Martin inserted smoothly. "If Elijah went to the press with this...." He left the thought unfinished. Further explanation wasn't necessary anyway. Everyone in the room knew what that kind of negative press could do to a fledgling production.

Sean took no part in the discussion. After greeting the producers he sat quietly while Martin and Elijah spoke to the two men. He stepped aside once to make a phone call as the negotiations continued, and then returned immediately to Elijah's side.

"And," one of the producers continued. "There's the problem of finding another director. We're getting close to dress rehearsals, and opening night is only a month or so away. Who could we get to step in at this late date?"

"I have a thought about that," Sean said quietly.

They all turned to him.

"I would be willing to direct the play."

"Sean!" Elijah exclaimed in delighted surprise.

"Really?" Martin queried, gazing at Sean in shock.

"But have you had any stage experience, Sean?" responded one of the producers.

"No," Sean replied. "And that's why I'd be asking Jacob Abbot to co-direct with me. He has _tons_ of stage experience."

"He'd do it?"

"He's already cleared his calendar," Sean affirmed, smiling. "He's an old friend." He leaned close to Elijah and whispered: "That's who I've been on the phone with. Him... and one other person."

Elijah laughed softly and shook his head in wonder. "You really _are_ a knight in shining armor."

Blushing with pleasure, Sean turned to the two producers. "Well?" he asked sharply. "Are you in? Or is Elijah _out_?"

They both nodded. "We're in. We'll release Christopher today."

"And one more thing," Sean added as he rose. "This play won't be premiering in a month. We'll be opening closer to midseason. This production has been too rushed already. We need time to rethink and regroup. And," Sean added in a lower voice. "Elijah needs time to rest."

The men hesitated, then one of them spoke. "Sean, the folks funding this project will have to agree to that kind of delay. We can't sanction it without their approval."

Sean grinned. "I've been on the phone with them too. They're old friends of my dad's. They're content to wait as long as I promise to direct the project." He glanced at Elijah. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

"Well, you appear to have thought of everything," the head producer replied. "Fine. We'll have new contracts drawn up immediately."

Sean turned to the Martin who was grinning hugely. "I think that's your cue. Can you handle the contract issues for us here? I want to take Elijah home."

"Sure thing, Sean. I'll call you later tonight with details."

Sean rose from his chair drawing Elijah up with him. "We'll talk to you gentlemen later on."

They shook hands with the producers, and after expressing their thanks headed for the door.

"Let's go pack your bags," Sean urged after they'd taken their leave.

Elijah grinned and leaned against his arm as they made their way back to his room. "We going someplace?" he asked. "I'd rather hoped we'd get to...," he nudged Sean suggestively. ".... _rest_ here for awhile before we went charging off someplace."

Sean laughed and wrapped his arm around Elijah's shoulders. "I'm all for that, believe me. But then we're going to spend a week or two in some as-yet-undecided-upon romantic hideaway."

"Sounds perfect," Elijah said happily, then stopped and turned to look at Sean. "You've been thinking about this for a long time?"

"Sort of in the back of my mind..." Sean admitted. "... when it wasn't getting drowned out by all the other stuff. And then when they told me who was funding the play it all just clicked, and I started making phone calls."

The resumed their walk down the hall. "So you're my director again, huh? Just like old times."

"Yeah, but don't be thinking you'll get any kind of special treatment," Sean cautioned, with a wink. "You're just one of the guys."

"Yeah," Elijah replied dryly. "Just one of the guys.... the one who happens to give you a blow job every night."

"Well," Sean conceded with a laugh. "There is _that_!"

Elijah halted and turned to face Sean, wrapping his arms around his lover's neck. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Don't thank me yet," Sean said, drawing him close. "They were right that I have no stage experience. Even _with_ Jacob's help we might very well open and close on the very same night."

"Could be," Elijah agreed, then kissed him tenderly. "But even if we do, I bet it'll still be the time of our lives."

 

> Epilogue: After they returned home, Sean insisted that Elijah have a complete physical exam. There it was discovered that he was suffering from anemia and a slight thyroid imbalance, all of which was resolved with medication, rest, and lots of Sean's tender loving care. They spent two weeks in a secluded beach house in Bermuda, basking in the sun and resting. By the time they returned to LA, Sean was satisfied that Elijah was well on the way to recovery.
> 
> Rested and renewed Elijah returned to _Autumn's Pride_ where his electrifying performance as Blair Edwards took New York by storm. In spite of the fact that Sean had very little stage experience, he managed to turn a small off-Broadway play into a national sensation. The show played every night to a nearly sold-out audience and was received with zealous enthusiasm. Sean and his co-director Jacob won Obie awards, as did Elijah, the playwright and the play itself.
> 
> Dom and Billy still struggle to resolve their relationship issues. Still deeply in love, they're trying to find some semblance of happiness together without tearing Billy's family apart.
> 
> Alexandra and Orlando remained married. She drastically reduced the number of hours she spent pursuing her Ph.D. and the young couple seem more in love than ever. Sean and Elijah are hoping for a granddaughter.
> 
> A year after their success on Broadway, Sean and Elijah brought _Autumn's Pride_ to the big screen where Elijah delivered his most powerful performance to date. Naturally, Sean was his director.
> 
> Did they win another Oscar? Stay tuned and find out!

I've had the time of my life  
No I never felt this way before  
Yes I swear it's the truth  
And I owe it all to you

'Cause I've had the time of my life  
And I've searched through every open door  
'Til I found the truth  
And I owe it all to you

\- end -


End file.
